


Daddy’s Little Boy

by theythem



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ageplay, Daddy!Cas, Little!Dean, M/M, Non sexual ageplay, Non-Sexual Ageplay, Other, ageplay daddy Castiel, ageplay dom Castiel, ageplay little Dean Winchester, daddy!castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2020-03-17 21:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18973342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theythem/pseuds/theythem
Summary: Dean Winchester has a bedwetting problem. Castiel has a solution.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I started a few months ago in my spare time; it’s currently at about 40k words, so the first few chapters will be fairly consistent.

Dean Winchester was not a child anymore. And nightmares were for children. So why did he keep having them? And why, oh why, did he keep wetting the bed?   
Dean sat up, pushing the wet blankets away. He heard the familiar flutter of wings before he saw Castiel. “Save it.” he said gruffly, stomping past the angel to the bathroom. Cas didn’t say a word, cleaning the sheets and remaking the bed with a simple hand motion. He heard the shower start and sighed, sitting on the bed to wait.  
Dean sauntered out of the bathroom, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “Dean,” began Cas. “That’s the third time this week.”   
“I would’ve taken care of it myself.” Dean snapped. Cas sighed again, mojoing up some breakfast for Dean, who softened. “Thanks.” Dean dressed quickly, his back turned to Cas.   
“Dean.” Cas frowned. “I wish—“  
Dean interrupted. “No, Cas. I can take care of myself. I’m not a goddamn baby.” Cas shushed him. “No, dammit, listen!”  
“Dean, do you want to wake Sam?” Cas’s voice was calm. Dean hated how reasonable he was.  
“I’m not a baby.” Dean repeated, more quietly this time, beginning to eat his breakfast.  
“I know that, Dean. But I really think this would help.” Castiel soothed.  
“I don’t need help.” argued Dean, sipping the hot coffee.  
“You need to keep wetting the bed and having nightmares?” Castiel questioned. Dammit. Dean couldn’t stand how logical Cas could make things seem. No, he didn’t need to keep wetting the bed and having nightmares, but he didn’t need help either.   
“I’ve got it handled, Cas.” Dean finally said again. Cas frowned.  
“Very well, then…” he said, vanishing with a quiet flutter of his wings.   
Dean sighed, continuing to pick at his breakfast. He knew Sam would be up soon, though, and sighed. They should start looking for another hunt. They should… but he needed a break. Cas was right; all the hunting was getting to him. He needed a break. But he still couldn’t do what Cas was asking of him. Dress in diapers? Act like a baby? No way. Dean Winchester was the big brother. He was not a baby!  
“Dean?” Sam asked, sleepy.  
“Morning.” Answered Dean gruffly.  
“Is that breakfast?” Dean nodded, pushing the plate toward him. They’d been sort of strung out for money recently, and they hadn’t been eating much. “How’d you pay for that?” asked Sam, eyeing the bacon.   
“Cas brought it. Eat some, Sammy.”   
“It’s Sam, Dean.” the younger corrected, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth.   
“You can have the rest of that. I’m going to start looking for another hunt.” Dean told Sam, though he had only taken a few bites. He walked out of the hotel room and into the sunshine, feeling the warmth on his face and squinting in the light, his eyes tired. They needed a new hunt.  
He walked down the sidewalk to a faded metal box, fumbling around in his pocket for the quarters he needed to buy the newspaper, but only found one. An irksome noise preceded the appearance of the remaining three quarters, and Dean groaned. “Back so soon, Cassie?” he asked, having regained his cool and calm demeanor.  
“Right again, Dean-o.” Said Cas. He took the quarters from Dean and with a flick of his wrist, they were replaced by a newspaper, which he opened to a particular page, handing it to Dean to read. He smiled, relieved at having work again; despite being overwhelmed by it, work gave Dean a chance to feel useful and dive into something. Cas disappeared again, and Dean walked back to the hotel room.   
“Sammy,” he said. “I think we’ve got something.”   
And indeed they did. The Winchesters spent three days researching (one of which ended in a wet bed for Dean the next morning, which he promptly ignored), and one adrenaline-filled night before they could find (and eliminate) the cause of several mysterious deaths in the area.  
The morning after their hunt, Cas was sitting at the desk in the boys’ hotel room, waiting calmly for Dean to wake up. He had plans to speak to Sam and convince the younger brother of his plans for Dean. As far as Castiel was concerned, 4/7 days with a wet bed was not healthy, and he intended to help Dean. However, he needed to send Dean away so he could speak with Sam without interference.   
The older Winchester awoke a few minutes after Cas had appeared in their room, angry as ever to find that the sheets were wet again. He sat up and jumped when he saw Castiel, pulling a knife from under his pillow before he realized that it was only the angel. “God! A warning would’ve been nice!”  
Castiel simply said “Good morning, Dean.” With a wave of his hand, the sheets and Dean were clean. Dean wrinkled his nose at this but chose not to comment- a wise choice, thought Castiel. “I have a small gift for you.” said the angel. A handwritten list materialized in his hand, and he handed it to Dean.   
“What’s this?” he asked, glancing at the list of 9-digit numbers and names.   
“Go and get yourself some money, Dean Winchester.” Dean’s face broke into a smile when he realized what he held; social security numbers he could use to apply for credit cards or loans. He was sure these people were dead but hadn’t been discovered yet, or that simply nobody cared, as that was Castiel’s modus operandi when helping the brothers.  
“Thanks, Cas.” Dean said gratefully, standing and heading out the door. It was obvious that he didn’t consider the possibility that Cas would stay in their room- just as he had hoped.   
“Samuel, wake up.” Cas shook his shoulder.   
“Jus’ Sam…” groaned the man, still exhausted.   
“Sam, we need to talk about Dean, but he won’t be gone for very long.” At this, Sam sat upright. As good as Dean was at hiding his issues, Sam still knew he had them, and he figured that that was what Cas had come to discuss. “Sam, I believe that you are unaware that your brother has wet the bed due to a nightmare five times in the last 8 days.” Began Cas. Sam’s jaw dropped.   
“What? No. Dean hasn’t wet the bed since we were kids.”   
“Au contraire, Sam.” Cas sighed. “I am worried about your brother, and wish to take him into my care to give him a break from hunting and the stress it brings him.”  
Sam chortled at this. “Good luck with that. A break from hunting… yeah, good luck.” he laughed again. Castiel smiled tightly.   
“I believe that it would be in your brother’s best interest but to have no choice in this matter, because his choice would be to continue as he is right now, as you’ve indicated. So beginning tomorrow, I am taking Dean to a secluded location and will be taking care of him.” Said Cas, with finality.  
“Uh… taking… care of him? How?” Sam was skeptical, an eyebrow raised.  
“That, I’m afraid, is between Dean and myself only. If he chooses to tell you, that is fine, but for now, I’ve decided that it will minimize Dean’s embarrassment if the details of our arrangement are kept a secret from others.”  
“So, has Dean agreed to this?” Sam asked. Cas shook his head.   
“No, but as I said earlier, he will not have a choice in the matter. I have consulted with my father and we believe that this is the best choice.” Sam exhaled heavily.   
“I’m trusting you, Cas.” was all he said. Cas answered with a smile just as Dean strolled back into the door, handing Sam a credit card. “How did you…” Sam began, before shrugging and pocketing the card.   
The three talked for a while, Castiel seeming to pay extra attention to whatever Dean spoke about. Eventually, Cas left the Winchesters to search for another hunt, disappearing after some goodbyes. He did, after all, have to make some preparations.  
The next morning was day 6/8 with wet sheets for Dean. To his surprise— and, he noticed, chagrin—- Castiel didn’t appear this time. Instead, Dean was left to clean himself up manually, as well as the sheets.   
After Sam had awoken, and the two sat lounging with parts of the day’s newspaper, they heard the telltale flutter of wings. Dean tensed.   
“Hello, Cas.” Said Sam cooly.  
“Samuel, Dean.” Greeted Cas.  
“It’s just Sam.”  
Cas smiled before turning to Dean. “Dean, I was wondering if you could come with me somewhere and help me with a few things for a day while Sam looks for a hunt.” Cas began. Dean looked at Sam, unsure, but Sam only smiled.   
“Go ahead, Dean. I’ll be fine.” Assured the younger.   
“Uh… alright, I guess. Yeah, okay.” Dean acquiesced.   
“Alright. Come along, Dean.” said Cas. He reached a hand out to touch Dean’s shoulder, and with a wink at Sam and a flutter of his wings, he was gone.  
Sam sighed, worried. His brother would never willingly agree to a break from hunting. How would Castiel manage to get him to comply with whatever his plan was? And, pray tell, what was this plan? Castiel had said something about minimizing embarrassment, and Sam couldn’t even begin to think of what Cas had in mind.   
Meanwhile, Dean and Cas materialized in a fairly suburban home, It looked normal, and Dean was perplexed. “Cas, why did you bring me here?” he asked.   
“Hush, Dean. You’ll see.” Replied Cas from another room. Dean followed his voice to a kitchen, huge and full of food. Most he could see, he noticed, was his favorite. “Dean-o, I was wondering if you could help me clear some things out of the attic?” Asked Cas, as though it were something completely normal.  
“Why don’t you just mojo them away?” Dean asked sharply. Cas smiled, his lips tight.   
“I was just hoping to speak to you for a bit, Dean.” Dean nodded, though unsure, and followed Castiel up the stairs. They began to work, sorting through box after box in a steady rhythm. When he felt the time was right, Cas took a deep breath and with a simple hand motion, Dean was unconscious, and light enough for him to carry.   
Castiel lifted Dean, carrying him down the stairs and mojoing the remaining boxes away. He took the still “sleeping” Dean to his room, humming softly as he went. Methodically, and without a hint of embarrassment or hesitation, he began to undress Dean. He took the well worn and frankly disgusting shirt off first, then the patched jeans and heavy boots. Socks came next, and Cas made a mental note that Dean would need a real bath soon as he wiped him with baby wipes before removing his underwear. Unsurprisingly, Dean hadn’t shaved in a while. Castiel tsk’d, and with all the gentle touches of a mother, shaved the hair, replacing his underwear with a diaper. He had hesitated over whether to first dress Dean in a diaper or pull up, but in the end had decided that a diaper would prevent leaks better, and so a diaper it was. He found footie pajamas— Dean sized, of course—- and dressed his little boy, smiling down at him. The blues and greens looked precious together, and the cartoon dinosaur made Dean appear young. He was already fairly short, and had a tendency to walk bow-legged, which was helpful for diaper changes, but in his pajamas, he seemed so small. Cas lifted Dean again, laying him in his crib, and pulling a small gray blanket to his chin. He lifted his mojo, knowing that Dean would sleep for a while; it was nearly dark. Cas hoped the boy wouldn’t be too upset with him in the morning as he switched on the baby monitor and went to take a shower, relaxing in the heat of the water. He dried, dressed, and climbed into bed, eyes heavy, listening to the soft sounds of Dean snoring and smiling before drifting off to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud screech woke Cas in the morning, and he sprung out of bed immediately, rushing to the nursery. Dean, red in the face and absolutely pissed, was trying to fling himself over the crib bars. “Cas!” he barked. “Let me out of here!” Castiel managed a smile, walking up to the crib.  
“Dean-o, honey, that’s no way to speak to your daddy.” he soothed, a hand on Dean’s cheek. The younger recoiled.  
“You are not my father. And I am not a baby! Let me out of here, Castiel!” he argued.  
“No, Dean.” answered Cas simply.   
“Why?” Cas thought for a moment before he answered.   
“You need love and a break. You need to stop wetting the bed. This is my solution.”   
Dean’s face turned an even darker rouge. “Putting me in a giant crib!? That’s your solution?” Cas grimaced. He knew it wouldn’t be easy but he wasn’t anticipating that it would be this difficult.  
“I admit that my methods are a bit unorthodox,” he began. Dean chortled.  
“Yeah, you think?”  
“But,” Cas continued sharply. “Give it a shot. Just a few weeks, and if you hate it, you’re done.”   
“A few weeks!? No, Cas! Absolutely not! I need to hunt! Sammy needs me!” Cas shook his head.  
“I’m afraid so, Dean-o. Are you going to calm down enough to go eat breakfast?”   
Dean scowled. “What if I say no?” he asked, testing Cas.  
“Then we’ll wait,” answered the angel, a faux cheer in his voice. He knew the game Dean was playing, and he was in it for the long haul. He had a seat in the oversized rocking chair and began to rock, looking irritatingly calm.  
Dean sighed. He was hungry. He knew Castiel would feed him well. But was it worth the humiliation of giving in to Cas? And what would happen once he said yes? Surely his problems wouldn’t be over. But his stomach cramped and twisted against his will. “I’m starving, Cas.” he said.  
“It’s daddy, Dean. And are you calm enough to go to the kitchen with me?”   
“Yes.” Dean could do this. Yes, he was calm enough to go to the kitchen. He could eat and then maybe Cas would let him go.  
“Yes what?” asked Cas expectantly.   
“Yes… sir?” Guessed Dean. Castiel wanted to take on the role of a father, right? Dean and Sam had always had to call John sir; it surely wouldn’t be anything different with Cas. Even saying the word and giving in to him pained Dean, though. He was not a baby, and he did not have to answer to any father anymore; yet here he was, reliving his childhood at 25.  
“No, baby. Yes…?” asked Cas again.  
“Cas? Castiel?” Surely he didn’t want to hear the word… daddy. No. That was a dirty word— nobody called their actual father that. Just perverted people with daddy issues. Dean had daddy issues, sure, but he was no pervert; he wasn’t even gay. Plus, Cas wasn’t his dad.  
“Honey…” Cas’ voice had a warning tone to it. Dean felt the panic rising up in his chest again. He couldn’t do it. He had been permitted to call John “dad.” Maybe that would satisfy Cas? Though he guessed it wouldn’t, if the diaper and onesie he wore were any indication.  
“Yes, dad.” He said, swaying and bouncing impatiently. A heavy sigh told Dean that this was not the right answer. Deep down, he knew what word Cas wanted to hear. His stomach grumbled loudly and he wondered how much longer Cas would hold out.   
“Dad…” Cas began. Dean was hit with a particularly strong hunger pain, and wondered how long he had been asleep, and how long he’d gone without eating. He couldn’t remember the days before their last hunt, though that had to be when he had eaten last.   
“Dee” he said, finally giving in to the pain. A smile broke out on Castiel’s face.   
“Atta boy, Deanie.” praised Cas, lowering the crib bars. Dean went to take a step and was immediately lifted.   
“No. I can walk.” He argued, trying to struggle out of Cas’s grip.   
“Babies don’t walk.” answered Cas, his grip not tight but certainly no nonsense. He carried an indignant Dean to the kitchen, setting him down in a tall chair. It was similar to a barstool, if barstools had arm rests, with railings for Dean’s feet on the bottom. What Dean hadn’t noticed were the straps, which were immediately fastened and tightened around him.   
“Cas,” he groaned, leaning his head back in irritation as a plastic tray was snapped into place.   
“Daddy, Dean.” corrected the older, paying no mind to the boy’s complaint. “Here, eat this while daddy makes you a good breakfast,” said Cas, pouring some Cheerios onto the tray. Dean wanted so badly to throw them at Cas, who was now looking through cabinets with his back turned, but his mouth began to salivate at the very sight of food, so he reluctantly scooped a few up and tossed them into his mouth. Cas set down a sippy cup, which Dean ignored, though the Cheerios made his throat dry. He was not a baby. “Dean, here.” Cas lifted the cup to his lips and Dean was surprised to find that it was not water but juice. The taste of it was vaguely familiar and yet Dean was sure John had never bought something like that for him.  
Sam.  
That was the answer. As Dean took a greedy sip now that Cas’s back was turned, he remembered that Sam was the reason he remembered the taste of this juice. When Sam was young, maybe 5, he’d seen the flashy bottles in a store, cartoon characters on the outside, and cried for some. John had silenced him with a smack, but as soon as John had fallen asleep, Dean took some money out of John’s wallet and went back to the store. He bought the cheapest juice he could find that was what Sam had cried for, and he had only allowed himself a tiny sip, hoping that the admittedly meager amount he was able to purchase, now smaller thanks to Dean’s selfishness, would satisfy his brother. It had, and Dean hadn’t tasted the juice since.   
He took another smack from the cup and realized that it was empty, the noise of air moving through the cup turning his face red. Cas turned around from where he stood at the stove. “Thirsty, honey? Let daddy get you some water. Breakfast will be plenty sweet and you can have more juice afterwards.” he smiled, the sincerity on his face sickening to Dean. Cas filled the cup and returned it to his baby, then returning to breakfast, which was smelling increasingly amazing. Dean wondered what he could be making that smelled so good, but he didn’t have to wait long.  
Pancakes. Some had fruit and some had chocolate chips, and they all looked absolutely amazing. Dean hadn’t had pancakes in… God, he couldn’t even think of how long it had been since he’d eaten pancakes, and even then, he was sure they were plain as could be. “Which would you like first?” asked Cas. Dean thought heartily for a moment, then pointed at the fruity ones. Cas returned this with a warm smile, bringing the plate to Dean’s tray and beginning to cut the pancakes. Dean sighed, irritated. He was not a baby. Even worse was when he began to feed him as though he was a child.  
Dean twisted away from Cas. Though it hurt his neck, he was determined to eat by himself and to avoid being fed. “Deanie, let daddy feed you.” said Cas. Dean wanted the pancakes so badly but he couldn’t give in. Still, saliva practically dripped from his mouth. Just one bite, he thought. He could let himself just have one bite, and then Cas wouldn’t feed him anymore. One bite would be okay.   
Slowly, he turned his head back to Cas and opened his mouth. With a look of shock on his face, the angel put a piece of pancake with a blueberry on top in his mouth.   
It was amazing, and Dean sighed, chewing slowly, savoring the bite.   
“Like your daddy’s cooking, boy?” asked Cas, an amused smile on his face. Before Dean could react, Cas put another bite in his mouth. He could spit it out, he thought, but it tasted so good. So he sighed and chewed it, allowing bite after bite, until he had eaten several pancakes and drained his cup once again. “That’s enough for you, Dean.” Cas said, putting his plate in the sink. He wiped Dean’s face with a wet paper towel, much to his chagrin, and took the plastic tray off.  
Dean scrambled and stretched to try to free himself, though he couldn’t move until Castiel undid the straps around him and lifted him.   
“I can walk!” Dean grumbled.  
“Yes, you can. But right now it’s nap time.” Cas said, his tone fatherly and no nonsense. Dean wrinkled his nose.   
“Nap time? I haven’t napped in 22 years, Cas.” Retorted Dean.  
“Dean-o, I’ve told you quite a few times now. It’s daddy. And it’s nap time, babe, so off to bed you go.” Cas carried him to his bedroom, depositing him in the crib on his stomach and closing the bars of the crib. “Night, honey.” Smiled Cas, flicking the lights off and turning on a sound machine.   
Once the door was closed, Cas sighed heavily. That hadn’t gone so badly. But it wasn’t smooth, or nearly as smoothly as he’d hoped.   
Dean, meanwhile, laid on his back, pissed at the world. He stood, trying to figure out how he could undo the crib bars from inside, but it was no use. It was effectively Dean-proof. He sat back down, laying on his stomach again. Then he sat up again. Laid on his back. He wasn’t tired… Well, he was, but he was absolutely not napping. Instead, he had a far more irritating problem. He needed to pee. Badly.   
But he wasn’t getting out of the crib any time soon, and he was not about to use his diaper. Still, the sound of water dripping on the damned sound machine Cas had put on was killing him. He ignored the pain, though, arching his back and crossing his legs. “Cas?” he called out. No answer. “Caaaassss…” he tried again. He was getting desperate; his groin ached. “Cas?” He looked from side to side, and let out a resigned sigh. “D-daddy?” he asked. The door opened immediately. That asshole, he thought.  
“Yes, Dean?” asked Cas.  
Dean sighed. This wouldn’t go over well and he knew it. “Cas, I really gotta pee.”  
“Use your diaper, Dean-o.” Cas smiled. “It’s nap time anyway. Daddy will change you once you wake up.”   
Dean groaned. He couldn’t. Absolutely not. Wetting the bed was one thing; pissing himself intentionally was another thing entirely. He would not do it.  
But it was hard to sleep with the ache in his gut. He twisted in pain under the blanket, wishing so desperately that this urge would magically go away. He wondered what time it was, and if his “nap time” would be over soon, so he could sneak off to the bathroom to relieve himself.   
He closed his eyes tightly, rubbing his palms over them. If naptime wasn’t over soon, he wouldn’t make it; he would have to deal with the knowledge that he had pissed himself at 25. It was still different to him than bedwetting. He couldn’t help wetting the bed. This, he could.   
He could, that was, until he felt the telltale trickle of urine. He cursed himself mentally, and felt hot tears spring from his eyes. He was not doing this. He closed his legs tighter, willing it to stop, yet the release brought him so much relief that he couldn’t. He laid there, warmth between his legs, and felt hot, salty tears make their way down his face. He made no sound, terrified of what would happen if he did. Shortly thereafter, Dean realized one monumental problem.   
He had a wet diaper, but he was supposed to be napping. Cas likely wouldn’t be in to change him until he was supposed to be awake, and god, would it be uncomfortable to wait. He could call for him, but Cas wouldn’t come unless he called him that dreaded name. He resolved to wait.   
As the time passed, Dean felt more and more tired, stretching out on his back, tugging on the grey blanket Cas had provided. Every time his eyes started to drift shut, though, they sprung open again. He was not napping. But the sound of rain on his machine, and the warmth of his crib, and the dark room and his heavy eyelids made it so incredibly hard not to sleep, and so he eventually succumbed to it.   
Castiel had been listening to this entire ordeal on the baby monitor, beyond pleased when he heard Dean snoring. Dean could have an hour’s nap and then wake up, he thought, checking the time. It was 9:06. Yes, he thought, an hour would be perfect. Walking to the living room, he decided to set up a few things for baby Dean when he woke up. He couldn’t necessarily hope that Dean would like them or play with them, but in time he would. A giant playpen was his first order of business, which he simply mojoed together. Toys, including some of young Dean’s old favorites, like stacking rings and a bunch of trucks. That was one benefit of being able to see Dean’s memories; Cas knew what would please his baby and what would irritate him. The grey blanket, for example, closely resembled Dean’s baby blanket, which John had tossed in the trash after an unfortunate bedwetting incident at fourteen.  
Cas checked the time. 9:40. It amazed him how quickly time had passed. He hoped Dean would be energetic and ready to play when he woke up, but realistically, he knew better. Sitting down on the couch, he sighed. Dean needed so badly to be loved, but he had to let go first. However, Cas wasn’t sure he could let go without breaking, which is what made him fearful. At 10:00, Cas took a deep breath and walked into Dean’s room. He raised the lights and lowered the crib bar, lifting Dean. “Good morning, baby” he said, his voice hushed. He felt Dean awaken in his arms and immediately squirm in discomfort. Cas reached for the leg of his onesie to feel his diaper, but his hands were pushed away. “Dean-o, do you need a change?” He asked, trying a different approach. Dean mumbled something in response. “I’m sorry,” said Castiel. “I asked if you need to be changed.”  
“What I need,” Dean frowned. “Is to be out of this stupid diaper and this whole stupid situation. I hate you, Cas!” He grumbled. Cas’s heart faltered for a moment, but he knew he had to work through this, pain and all.  
“Dean Winchester,” said Castiel, his tone warning. “We do not hate in this house. I am going to change you now and then daddy will put you in timeout for five minutes.” He said firmly.  
“I’m not a child!” Argued Dean, squirming to get out of Cas’ arms. Regardless, Cas put him down, a strap across the table that snapped under it making it nearly impossible for him to move. “Stop, Cas!”   
“It’s daddy, Dean. And you need to get clean. The less you fight,” began the angel. “The sooner it will be over.” He undid the zipper buttons on Dean’s adorable pajamas and took a deep breath. He didn’t have an issue changing him. But he was worried about Dean’s reaction.   
He had already prepared the wipes and another diaper, so with a surge of confidence, he undid the tapes on the diaper and pulled it back. With gentle, unsure touches of the cold wipe, he cleaned Dean’s skin, wrapping the wipes up in the diaper and replacing it shortly thereafter with a fresh one. He added some powder to the diaper and did the tapes, putting Dean in a short-sleeved onesie with dinosaurs on it and pulling a pair of dinosaur printed sweats to his hips. He removed the strap, and looked at Dean for the first time.  
His face was bright red and there were tears streaming down it, and a little bit of blood on his lip where he had bitten it. “Oh, Deanie…” he said, sitting his boy up. He moved in for a hug, entirely expecting Dean to move away from him. Instead, Dean all but fell into his chest, clutching at his back. He couldn’t put him in timeout after that... “Hush honey, it’s over now. Daddy is all done.” he said, lifting the boy, who still cried.  
One handed, Cas filled a bottle with water and walked to the couch, sitting with his baby. Dean was nearly done crying, still sniffling, and Cas laid him over his lap, giving him the water. Dean made no move to hold the bottle and Cas just smiled, holding it for him. Dean’s eyes stayed open, though, red and puffy, and the sight of blood on his lip broke Cas’ heart. When the bottle was empty, he stood, earning a whine from Dean. “It’s okay little one, Daddy just wants to wipe your face,” explained Cas, setting him down on the counter. Dean still clutched to Castiel like he’d die without him, so Cas used one hand to wet a paper towel. “Real quick, Dean-o. The sooner you let daddy do it, the sooner he can hold you again.” bargained Cas. Nearly immediately, Dean sat back, and with eyes closed let Cas wipe his face and mouth. When Cas was done, he held Dean again, kissing his forehead as he refilled his bottle. The pair sat back down on the couch, Cas putting a movie on for the boy.   
Dean wasn’t paying attention. All he could focus on was Cas’ touch on his back. He hadn’t had somebody else clean him up since he was a toddler, and the loving, gentle touches had broken him mentally. It was too much for him to handle on top of everything he was dealing with. So instead of speaking, or pulling away as he usually would, he simply sat with Cas and let himself be loved. He couldn’t be sure that he’d feel the same tomorrow, but for today, he was done fighting it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a few thousand word chapter. Enjoy :)

Castiel was quickly bored of the movie, and looked down at his little Dean. “Want lunch, little one?” he asked. Dean nodded sleepily. “This,” Cas said, “is why daddy wanted you to have a longer nap.” He said, setting Dean into his high chair. Dean whined, and laid his head on the tray once Cas put it down for him. Cas tsked and began to look for something appropriate for lunch. He settled on hot dogs and mac and cheese— some of Dean’s favorites— and began to cook it, humming softly. Dean’s shores made him chuckle, though he knew the boy would be a bear once he was woken. His little boy loved three things; sleep, food, and the Impala. To interrupt Dean’s sleep was taking his life into his hands, but Cas hoped the food would offset it. Once the hot dogs were done, Cas sliced one down the center, then in half again. He let it cool while he got out kids plates— today’s choice was a yellow plate with bee graphics all over it— and spread a bit of mac n cheese in one of the compartments, letting it cool as well. He found the plate’s matching sippy cup and filled it with chocolate milk, a special treat for his Deanie.  
He gently shook his boy, who stirred. He was a light sleeper from all his years of hunting. And John Winchester. Dean yawned, rubbing his eyes, but perked up when he smelled the food. Cas chuckled at this, using the moment to sneak a bib onto Dean. He wouldn’t want the tot to ruin his sweet little onesie, after all. Dean made a face but chose to ignore the bib, it seemed, reaching with grabby hands to Cas, who laughed heartily.  
“Daddy will hold you once you eat. For now, let’s get some yummies.” he said, poking a piece of hot dog with a plastic fork. Dean opened his mouth expectantly, not caring that he was being fed for the second time; the food was delicious. He'd eaten hot dogs and mac and cheese often on the road with John, but he suddenly had a new appreciation for it. He lavished every bite and every sip of chocolate milk, which he learned that he loved, and found that lunch ended far too quickly for his liking. Still, he desperately wanted his Daddy to hold him.  
No, Cas. Wait, no, he didn’t. He didn’t want Castiel to touch him. This was sick. He was not a baby.  
Castiel’s back was turned and he stood at the sink, and Dean struggled to make his way out of the high chair. “No, Dean-o. Daddy will be back in one second.” soothed Cas. Unable to get out of the chair, Dean resorted to pulling his bib off and throwing it, as Cas had his tableware.  
“I’m not a baby, Cas!” he said, irritated.  
Cas rolled his eyes, indulging himself since he knew Dean couldn’t see him. “Dean, it’s daddy. If you break that rule again, you’ll be put in time out.” Castiel informed him, turning around, wet paper towel in hand.  
He wiped a moody Dean’s face and slid the tray out from the chair, setting it down on the floor as he threw away the paper towel. Dean still struggled with the straps, though they both knew it was no use; they’d been mojoed so that only Cas could open them, which he promptly did, picking Dean up.  
“Let’s go play with some toys, Deanie.” he suggested, hoping to keep the mood light.  
“It’s Dean. And no. I’m not a baby.” Cas sighed. He knew Dean would get caught up on that; he just hadn’t realized for how long.  
“Fine, then, Dean. You can play alone while daddy eats his lunch and cleans up.” Cas said. Dean didn’t falter though, just mumbling some sassy comment. Cas put him down in the playpen, which was full of toys, and mojoed the lock. Of course.  
He walked quickly into the kitchen and ate, occasionally peering around the corner at Dean. He would play eventually, Cas thought. He had to. Castiel took his time eating and cleaning, and when he peered into the playpen, he saw Dean pushing a truck back and forth. Eyes wide, completely absorbed by the toy, he looked like a toddler in that moment, and Cas snapped a picture.  
The sound made Dean look up and scowl at him. “Delete that.” he grouched. Cas simply smiled.  
“Can I play with you?” asked Cas. Dean scowled.  
“I’m not playing.” Cas’ lips tightened.  
“Fine, then I’ll play alone next to you.” Cas said, climbing into the playpen. He pulled out another truck, a different one than Dean had been using, and pushed it back and forth for a moment. He made it drive up the side of the playpen, then back down, before driving up Dean’s leg. Dean let out a little giggle, which he quickly suppressed. “Vroom vroom,” Cas said, starting up Dean’s arm. Soon, the boy was in an all out belly laugh, and reaching for his own truck to play with. They drove the cars around on a rug, which was printed with a city and streets. Suddenly, Dean crashed his truck into Castiel’s, shrieking with joy. “Call an ambulance!” Cas said, as Dean’s truck drove away.  
Dean laughed at this heartily, stopping suddenly. Cas knew what must’ve happened; Dean’d had two bottles since he was woken up less than an hour ago, and laughing so hard and drinking a lot could not be a good combination for a little boy who was afraid to use his diaper. “Let’s play, Dean-o!” Cas suggested. He pulled back his car and crashed it into Dean’s, but the boy didn’t react much. “Honey, do you want daddy to change you before we play some more?” asked Cas.  
Much to his surprise, Dean nodded, so Cas stood. Dean put his arms up to be lifted and immediately snuggled into Cas’ arms, head on his shoulder. He carried his baby back to the nursery, pulling the sweatpants down and putting a hand on Dean’s stomach while he reached for a new diaper.  
Dean, meanwhile, covered his face. He didn’t want to be in a wet diaper, but he didn’t want Cas to change him either. Still, being changed was better than being wet any day, despite the major embarrassment.  
Cas made quick work of the change, sitting the boy up and holding him again. “Wanna go play some more?” he asked. Dean nodded into Cas’ shoulder. It was getting harder for him to resist melting into Castiel’s soft touches. He struggled against it the way an exhausted person struggles against sleep at the end of an amazing day. In the end, though, he found himself completely content in Castiel’s arms— so much so, in fact. that he remained in the man’s lap once the pair were seated in the playpen again. He cautiously picked up a truck and ran it up his Daddy’s— no, up Cas’s— leg. He HAD to stop doing that, he reminded himself. Saying it to get what he needed was one thing; thinking it was another entirely. He continued to play, eventually crawling out of Cas’s lap.  
“Stay here, Dean-o. Daddy’s gonna get ya some more milk.” Cas said, interrupting his thoughts. The man walked to the kitchen and took a deep breath. What he was about to do was so unfair to Dean, it really was. It would likely break him mentally, but Cas was sure it needed to be done. He prepared the drink, filling it with milk first. He added chocolate syrup and just a little bit of a laxative. Just enough to make Dean have to go a bit more urgently; he hoped that Dean would be able to let himself go completely and be the little one he deserved to be after that.  
He brought the cup back to his boy, who had moved on to a xylophone. He was rather musical, and trying to work out a tune, so Cas simply handed him the cup and then sat on the couch, not wanting to disturb this creative process. He glanced at the clock, surprised that it was nearly one in the afternoon. Time moved far more quickly now with a little one by his side. A smile crept into Castiel’s face as he watched Dean take a long swig of his milk, sighing with contentment. He played for a short while, but then stood, waddling over to the edge of the playpen. His diaper was thick between his legs, and his tendency to walk bowlegged was exaggerated by this, so much so that he looked like a giant child. Cup in hand, he lifted his arms up to Cas, an innocent look in his eyes.  
Cas melted and stood, lifting Dean to his hip. The pair snuggled into the couch together, Dean’s head on Cas’s lap. Dean’s daddy rubbed his belly gently. “Wanna listen to some music, Deanie?” asked Cas. Dean nodded, and soon classic rock came pouring out of Cas’ phone. Dean’s favorite. He smiled at this, relaxing with Cas. One of his daddy’s hands was on his stomach, rubbing firm and comforting circles, while the other carded through his hair. Dean was still very tired, but he pushed through it, listening instead to the music daddy played for him. He thought of each word just in time with the music, singing or humming along when he could. A nagging problem, though, plagued him.  
He would need to shit soon. He hated this fact of life, and cursed himself for eating such a rich and hearty breakfast AND lunch. He knew that daddy— CAS, he reminded himself— wouldn’t let him use the bathroom, that he’d have to use the diaper, but he couldn’t do that. He arched his groin a bit and tightened the muscles in his ass. He just had to wait for Cas to fall asleep. Then he could sneak out of his crib somehow, and use the bathroom. He wouldn’t use his diaper. He couldn’t.  
Cas continued to rub circles on his lower abdomen, smiling at the way Dean’s lips moved with the words of the music he listened to whether he actually sang or not. More often than not, he made some incoherent mumble, something somewhat close to the words but not quite. He was sleepy, undoubtedly, and could use another nap, but Cas knew he wouldn’t sleep if he took one. For this reason, he lifted the tot, much to his sleepy chagrin. “Nooooo,” complained Dean.  
“We’re going out to play, Deanie.” said Cas. He pulled Dean’s sweatpants off, despite groans from his boy, and walked out of the back door, which Dean hadn’t noticed before.  
Outside, the sun was shining brightly and it was warm as ever. Cas carried Dean down some steps off of the huge patio to an even larger backyard, with beautiful grass so green it seemed fake. Dean had never seen grass like this, and had figured as a child that it wasn’t real, just something made up for movies. He found out, however, when Cas set him down in it, that it was indeed real, if not from its softness from the way it tickled his now bare legs. He giggled and laid back in the sun, eyes closed, but Cas blocked his sunlight. He groaned, and tried to wiggle away when he felt a cold cream being applied to his face. “Just sunscreen, Dean-o.” Cas assured him, covering his ears and chest where it was exposed. He grumbled, but waited until his daddy was done to sit up and walk around in the beautiful, plush grass. Cas produced a rubbery ball from seemingly nowhere, and sat down, pushing it toward Dean. He plopped onto his butt, thankful for the extra padding his diaper provided. He still needed to use the bathroom, but refused, ignoring the feeling again as his stomach twisted deeper. He and daddy pushed the ball back and forth for a while, Dean ignoring all of his stomach pains.  
Unfortunately for him, not only was Cas instrumental in this, but he had been expecting it. He pushed the ball away and stood, scooping Dean up. “Thirsty, honey?” he asked. Dean nodded; sitting in the heat, he had worked up a bit of a sweat. “Let’s go inside for a while, baby.” Dean nodded, sneaking a glance at the clock. 2:15. “Let’s leave those sweats off for a while, eh?” asked Cas, more of a rhetorical question than anything. He set Dean in the high chair and mojoed the straps together, not bothering with the tray as he got Dean some cold water. With his back turned, he added just the slightest bit of a laxative. Again, he was struck with guilt, but the amount he had used earlier hadn’t been enough. He needed to go bigger, for Dean’s sake. He screwed the top back on the sippy cup and lifted Dean to his hip. It was impossible for him not to notice the way Dean’s stomach grumbled but he ignored it, hoping that his lack of acknowledgement wouldn’t make Dean suspicious. They sat down on the couch, Cas with Dean in his lap, laying against his chest. Dean leaned back, suckling greedily at the drink, while blasted Cas and his blasted humongous hands returned to his belly. They pressed in all the right places to make him squirm, so much so that he couldn’t concentrate on his drink. Instead, he pushed Cas’ hands away once or twice, sighing when they eventually returned. “What’s wrong, honey?” asked Cas innocently.  
“Nothin’.” Answered Dean. He grumbled, as Cas obviously didn’t believe him. He was not using his diaper for its intended purpose. He did not need to.  
Suddenly, he was struck with an idea. Though Cas could mojo away his wet diapers, he chose to do them by hand, something Dean had felt was odd. Maybe Cas would let him use the toilet for this so he wouldn’t have to clean it? There was no way that could be enjoyable for anybody. He hesitated to ask, though, thinking that Cas was probably well aware of the predicament he faced, and Cas was never the type to make someone ask for something he could just as easily offer. Still, the pain in his stomach grew more intense and he wondered what the worst that could happen would be.  
“Ca- Daddy,” he began innocently, after pushing away his drink. He tried to think of the most innocent way to say what he was about to say; he figured that maybe that would sway Cas, if he were more innocent about it.  
“Yes Dean?” he asked, a glimmer in his eye. Dean averted his eyes and fiddled with his hands.  
“I… I gotta go potty, Daddy.” Dean tried. Cas remained unfazed. “Number two, daddy. Please can I go on the potty?” he asked. He gritted his teeth against the embarrassment and willed the blush in his face to go away.  
“No, honey. Daddy’s sorry, little one, but that’s what your diaper is for.” Cas’ voice remained even and, dare Dean say, soothing, but stern.  
Shit, nearly literally, thought Dean. Now not only was he going to have to use the diaper, but Cas knew that he did. And what he had to do. Tears brimmed his eyes.  
“B-but why, daddy?” he whined, giving his best puppy dog look. He’d learned it from Sam, and though Sam always had success, he was not nearly as lucky.  
“Because little boys,” said Cas, “use their diapers. And you’re a little boy. Daddy’s little boy, in fact, so what daddy says goes.” Dean’s heart began to race as panic set in. He wiggled away from Cas, despite the man’s strong grip. “Dean-o, don’t run from your daddy.” Cas said. Dean did just that, moving as quickly as he could to hallway, trying every door. The only one unlocked was the nursery, which was no help. “Dean, come back here. Let daddy hold you.” Cas soothed. Dean faltered for a moment. Would that help or make it worse, he wondered. He couldn’t help thinking that it would be nice to have daddy hold him while he cried, but even nicer to not cry at all. He sighed, and nearly turned back to Cas. Then he walked into his nursery and shut the door. He paced back and forth, and he could hear Cas’ footsteps outside. He didn’t know what to do, and he was running out of time; he could barely hold back. He didn’t want to be defeated.  
Cas, meanwhile, sunk to the floor, back against the door. He could hear Dean pacing and swearing from outside, but he had one big rule for himself, aside from “make Dean feel better,” (which he wasn’t doing). His rule was that if he would say yes after some amount of whining or begging, then he would just say yes in the first place. He hadn’t expected it to be so hard to follow. He wanted so badly to open the door and lead Dean to the bathroom, but he knew he couldn’t. If he wanted Dean to feel better, he needed to be helpless and learn to love again. This was the best way to do that.  
The noises in Dean’s room slowed to a halt, and then, faint crying. It grew louder, accompanied by a pounding noise. Cas couldn’t take it any longer and opened the door.  
There laid Dean, alternating pounding his head and hands on the floor. He was screaming, red in the face now, and bawling. It was quite obvious that he had a full diaper.  
“Dean, honey, come here.” Cas tried.  
“No!” screamed Dean. “I hate you!” It stung again, but less this time. Cas knew he was just helping Dean, even through the hardest moments of it.  
“Dean, we do not hate daddy. This is the second time you’ve broken that rule. Last time, I didn’t give you a punishment. This time you will receive it.” Cas said sternly. Dean cried harder. “Deanie, come to daddy. If you keep crying like that, you’re so going to make yourself sick.”  
“Good!” screeched Dean, curling in on himself. He second guessed this immediately, likely because of the state of his diaper. He continued to cry until he was dry heaving, nearly vomiting more than once. Cas had had enough. He walked to his baby and picked him up without any struggle. Dean fell into his arms, head against his shoulder.  
“I know, Deanie. Let’s let daddy clean you up and get you a nice bath, huh?” he asked, more to soothe the boy than for an answer.  
“Bubbles” Dean sniffed. Cas was taken aback.  
“You want bubbles? Sure, honey. A bubble bath it is.” smiled Castiel. It was evident that Dean was letting go now. He laid the boy down, unbuttoning the onesie and pulling it off. Cas got wipes out, undoing the tapes of the diaper and pulling the front down.  
It wasn’t nearly as terrible as Dean had made it seem. Sure, the laxatives has probably made Cas’s job a bit harder, but that didn’t matter to him. He cleaned his boy as methodically as he could, then picked him back up, a hand behind his head. His face had lost some of its color and he was much calmer now. Cas started the bath water and let Dean choose from two bottles of bubble bath, pouring some in. “Now Dean,” began Cas. “While your bath fills up, you’re going to have a time-out.” he said, lowering the lid to the toilet. He gently guided Dean, who pouted, to it, and sat him down. “Think about what you’ve done.” he told his boy, turning his attention back to the bathtub. He only wanted Dean in time out until his bath was ready, so it would just be a few minutes. He planned to talk to Dean about it too, as he figured he’d never had someone care enough to talk it over.  
When the bathtub was full enough, Cas shut the water off and walked over to Dean. He looked like a giant child, crossing his arms over his chest, head down. “Okay, Deanie. Your time out is over now. Can daddy have a hug?” asked Cas. Dean gave him a tight hug, making him smile. “Now, Dean, let’s talk about this.”  
“Daddy I won’t do it again, I promise.” Dean said before Cas could start to talk.  
“Well thank you, honey. It really hurts daddy’s feelings when you talk like that.” Cas explained. Dean nodded solemnly.  
“I know, I’m sorry.” he said. Cas smiled at him and kissed his forehead.  
“I accept your apology. Now let’s get that bath.”


	4. Chapter 4

Cas helped Dean into the tub, smiling at the wonder on the boy’s face. It was certainly his boy’s first bubble bath in years, he figured, at least since Mary had died. Castiel filled a cup with water and gently shielded Dean’s face, tipping his head back and pouring the water on his head. Dean sighed with contentment as his daddy put a bit of shampoo in his hair, scrubbing it ever-so-gently. Love poured from his hands like warmth and Dean shivered. “Deanie, would you like a toy?” asked Cas. Dean grinned, his eyes sparkling brightly, and nodded.  
Cas pulled out a few boats for the boy and set them in the water, letting his baby play for a few minutes before tilting his head back again. Dean pushed against his hand, grumbling. “Let daddy rinse your hair quick. Then you can play again.” he said. Dean put his head back and allowed Cas to rinse his hair, waiting patiently until Cas moved his head back to its original position with a kiss to the forehead. While Dean played, Cas lathered up a washcloth with baby soap, starting with Dean’s toes and feet, making him giggle. He moved up to Dean’s legs and with all the tenderness of a mother, rubbed circles of soap all the way up his body, cleaning his chest and back, his broad shoulders… He cleaned between Dean’s legs quickly but thoroughly, in a no-nonsense manner, then got a separate cloth out for his face, cleaning it well. He rubbed a bit of conditioner into Dean’s hair, spiking it and making him laugh before rinsing it. “What a good boy,” mumbled Cas, his voice low. “Being so patient and good for daddy during your bath.” Dean smiled at the praise. “Now you can play till the water gets cold or till you’re done.” he added.  
Dean opted to play for only ten more minutes before putting his hands up for daddy to hold him. Cas lifted the boy, wrapping him in a towel, and held him close. He dried what he could while he hugged him, then walked to the nursery, laying his boy down. Finishing the process of drying his baby, he diapered him and dressed him in another footed onesie. “You look so cute baby boy!” smiled Cas. Dean blushed. “Is my little one hungry?” asked Cas. Several gigantic nods later, Cas erupted in giggles, carrying him to the high chair, strapping him in and putting the tray on. “Here’s some water, honey.”  
Cas made chicken tenders and fries, cutting the chicken up so it would cool for Dean. “Here, baby. Enjoy.” he said, putting it down on the tray for Dean. He ate excitedly, though slowly, at Cas’ prodding. Cas also took this time to eat, sitting on a stool by the kitchen island. It was quiet, something Cas was used to, but suddenly, it felt okay; instead of just being quiet, it was comforting quiet, soft quiet. He loved every second of it, though he would be happier still when it ended and he got to snuggle with his little one. “All done, Deanie?” asked Cas. He simultaneously made the sign for “done,” as he was hoping Dean could pick up on sign language eventually. Angels taught their children sign language before Enochian, after all— why would this be any different? Cas wiped Dean’s face and the tray, then picked him up, walking back to the living room. Snuggled in the recliner together, music on softly from Cas’ phone, Dean finally felt at home.  
A loud, unexpected bang in the music made Dean jump, and he cried out “Daddy!” Cas tightened his arms around the boy immediately.  
“You’re okay, Dean-o. You’re okay buddy.” he soothed, turning the music down. “Shhhh, Deanie. Your daddy is so sorry.” Cas soothed.  
“Hooooooooold me, daddy,” whined Dean.  
“Hush, shh, Daddy’s got you. I’m here, Dean, I’ve got you.” Dean calmed, laying his head back down on Cas’s chest.  
“Daddy, we play?” asked Dean. Cas smiled.  
“Yeah, sweetie. Let’s play.” Answered Cas. He set the tot down in the playpen and climbed in himself, letting Dean make the decision of what they’d play with. He was shocked and proud when Dean turned to the dollhouse.  
“Daddy,” he said. “I dunno how to dolls. But can we try? Help me dada.” Though his big voice— his inner voice— was coming through some, Cas didn’t mind for a second. Even if he held onto some of his big mentality, some little was better than nothing, he figured. Playing with dolls, even though he “didn’t know how” was better than refusing to play.  
“Okay, bub.” he smiled easily. “Who do you want to be?” Dean pondered for a moment before grabbing the little boy doll. It couldn’t have been older than 10 or so, so Cas pleased with this. He took the daddy doll, the hesitated. Dean took another doll— the older boy this time— and Cas wondered if they should use a mother doll. It would probably upset Dean, given the doll family was being built exactly as the Winchesters were. On the other hand, it likely wouldn’t hurt Dean to work through some of it innocently, in a manner like this. Suddenly, he felt cold plastic and fake hair in his open hand. Dean had apparently decided that he was taking too long and shoved the mother doll into his hand, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. The two began to play.  
It seemed as though Dean was acting out how his life should’ve gone with the dolls. The two boys were good friends, and played together often. The mother and father were very much in love and adored their children as well. The older of Dean’s dolls was particularly fond of the mother, it seemed.  
It came as the mother doll was “cooking dinner,” and Dean’s character sat at the table, talking, the daddy and little brother dolls having been discarded. Something Cas had said— he couldn’t remember what— had struck a chord with Dean, who began to whimper, his eyes feeling with tears. Cas pulled the boy into his chest, the dolls forgotten, and ran his hand over Dean’s head. “Shh, baby. It’s okay, honey.” He soothed.  
“I m-miss my mu-mu-mumma!” cried Dean, as though he couldn’t hear Cas, who sighed, scooping him up. Dean clung to him, tears streaming down his face, which was hidden in daddy’s shirt. He sounded so childlike, mumbling “mumma” every few seconds, clutching to Cas, the snot that comes from tears thick in his throat.  
Cas made him a cup of milk, checking the time- six o’clock or so. Time to start settling for bed, he reminded himself, sitting in the recliner with Dean.  
“Deanie,” he said. “Daddy is so sorry that you miss your mumma. Can he help you somehow?” Cas asked. He knew that there was likely little he could do now; instead, he just hoped to help Dean redefine his childhood with a better one.  
“Hold me daddy, hold me like mumma did,” cried Dean. Cas panicked for a second, thinking back into Dean’s memories. It was an incredibly useful thing to be able to do, Cas thought, as he situated Dean as Mary always had. It was harder now as he was so big, but Cas managed, Dean tucked into his arms as though he were much younger than he really was, even regressed. Cas tried the cup again, and Dean took a sip this time, holding it as though it were a bottle. Maybe he would be younger than Cas thought…  
Then again, he was upset. Being distraught as Dean was can bring out the worst in people. Dean was mild, though, crying for his mumma. Cas felt his diaper grow heavy, knowing that he had wet himself in his upset. “Shh, Dean. Shhhhh, honey,” he soothed. “Daddy is gonna change you. Then we can rock for a little, how does that sound?” asked Cas. Dean nodded pitifully, so Cas got up, putting his milk into the microwave and rocking him slowly, gently, as it heated. When it was sufficiently hot (and not a degree more), Cas poured it into a bottle, screwed the top back on, and went to the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair. Dean adjusted himself immediately, head leaned on daddy’s collarbone, stretched out over his lap, as daddy fed him his warm bottle, rocking gently. Something about it— maybe the warm milk, or maybe the way the world surrounded him so tenderly, or even the way he and Cas moved just slightly, was perfect to Dean, and he calmed slowly. “There you go, Dean. Atta boy, honey.” soothed Castiel. He continued to rock, taking the bottle from Dean when it was empty. Dean, who had nearly fallen asleep, whined, and Cas slipped a pacifier into his mouth. It was yellow, with a bee on the front, and Cas was sure that if Dean hadn’t been so tired or upset that he would have spit it out immediately. But instead, the boy settled again, head on Daddy’s shoulder, and fell into a sleep easily. Cas stood, continuing to rock his body, then settled Dean into the crib. He looked so peaceful there, still curled up, and Cas smiled. Pulling a blanket up to Dean’s chest, flicking off the light, and yawning, Cas turned on the baby monitor and sound machine, then walked out, closing the door. He smiled, then went to the kitchen, making his own dinner, humming softly.  
After a hot pocket— admittedly, a sad dinner, not that Cas cared— and a glass of water, he walked to the living room and picked up a bit. He didn’t touch any of Dean’s toys, hoping that he would play again in the morning. It had seemed to be good for him until he began to cry, Cas thought, and it would be nice to try again, maybe when Dean was under less stress.  
Cas unclipped the baby monitor from his hip, walking into the bathroom. He undressed slowly, turning the volume up on the baby monitor so that he could hear Dean if something happened, then got into the shower. He let the hot water pound on his back for a moment, rolling his shoulders and putting some shampoo in his hair. He scrubbed hard at his head, lathering the shampoo, and enjoying the heat of the water. He rinsed his hair and started on his body, putting his signature Irish Spring on a washcloth. Just as he was putting conditioner in his hair, he heard a noise on the baby monitor. He paused, waiting to see if he would hear it again. Clear as a bell, rang out Dean’s cry on the monitor, and it was not a good noise. Cas jumped out of the shower, quite literally, and turned the water off, wrapping a towel around his waist as he sprinted to the nursery. “Daaaaaaadddddyyy!!!!!” Cried the little one, holding his hands out. With tears in his eyes, he made grabby hands for his daddy. Cas secured his towel then lowered the bar, barely catching Dean, who launched himself into his arms. “Deanie was so scared daddy, you leftedid and Dean was all awoooooneee!” he said, clutching tightly to his daddy. “Had bad dream bout mumma and you weren’t thewwwweee daddy!” he added.  
“Shh, Deanie, Daddio is here now. Daddy’s here. Wanna talk about your dream?” asked Cas, his heart breaking.  
“Fire daddy, and had Sammy but no mumma and no daddy, only John and Sammy,” he said, grasping tighter at Cas’ shoulder. “Don’t want no daddy, always wants daddy,” His little voice cracked and Cas had to remind himself not to cry.  
“Daddy isn’t going anywhere.” he soothed. “Daddy is right here, Dean. Daddy’s got you.” Dean nodded, releasing his grip. “Let’s change you and get back to bed,” said Cas, laying the boy down. Instead of covering his face, Dean looked at Cas through the change. Cas couldn’t see him, but he felt Dean’s eyes.  
“Daddy,” the little one asked, “how come you’s all wet?” He paused, wondering. “Fightin’ the fire in Deanie’s dream?” he asked. Cas’ face broke into a smile. Out of the mouths of babes.  
“Yeah baby, daddy was helping fight the fire in your dream while he was in the shower.”  
“Den he heards me cryin’ and came to hewp?” asked Dean, for clarification. Cas nodded and finished the change, zipping the onesie back up. Dean appeared sufficiently content with this answer. “Daddy rock Deanie back to bed?” he asked.  
“Sure honey,” said Cas easily. He lifted his boy and moved to the rocking chair.  
“More milk?” bargained Dean. Cas sighed.  
“You’re pushing it, kid.” He mojoed up a bottle of warm milk and pressed the nipple to Dean’s lips. “‘Ats my boy,” Cas said, with a soothing kiss to the forehead. Dean was asleep again soon, and Cas laid him in the crib with a cup of water, then covered him again. He sighed. He didn’t NEED to get back in the shower. He could just mojo then conditioner away. Then again, he didn’t need to shower at all, or sleep for that matter. He just enjoyed the hot water and pressure. He shrugged, and with the help of some mojo, was quickly ready for bed. He set the baby monitor back on the bedside table and climbed in, letting the sweet sounds of Dean’s snoring nearly lure him to sleep before he realized something.  
Dean had said “John” and “daddy,” as though they were different people. And he didn’t say “Cas” at all. Dean had called him his daddy, and not John. In Dean’s mind— his terrified, nightmare, daddy-was-fighting-the-fire-in-his-dream-mind— recognized Cas as his daddy, someone who he wanted there to keep him safe, who he trusted to keep him safe. Cas wiped a stray tear from his face, one he didn’t know had fallen. His little boy adored him.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Cas awoke to sunshine on his face. He could still hear Dean’s snoring on the monitor, and when he checked the time, he groaned. It was not even 8:00, and here he was, awake. He pushed himself out of bed, though, and got dressed, yawning. Breakfast, he thought. But first, coffee.   
A pot was quickly put on to brew while he pondered breakfast options. Dean’s first few days needed to be kept low-key, so Cas would have time to go all out if he wanted. Instead, he settled on scrambled eggs, toast, and lots and lots of bacon. Deanie loved bacon, he remembered with a smile. Cas prepared all the materials then went up to the nursery to wake Dean.   
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he smiled as Dean came awake in his arms.  
“Mownin’” yawned Dean. Then he straightened in Castiel’s arms. “Uh, morning.” he said, scrunching his nose up so much that his eyes closed. Cas sighed. So today was going to be a step back.  
“Need a change, Deanie?” he asked. A deep blush spread over Dean’s face.  
“Uh, yes please,” Dean mumbled. Cas laid him down, unzipping his little onesie and changed his messy diaper quickly. He was proud that Dean didn’t cry or try to push Cas’ hands away, but that he just sat there, trying his hardest to stay calm, even though someone else was wiping his ass.   
“Okay, biggie boy, let’s get some brekky.” Cas said, lifting him after a quick hand washing. He walked to the kitchen and strapped Dean into his seat with a sippy cup of water and some Cheerios. He made breakfast quickly and put it in a pink and green plate for Dean, resembling a watermelon. Dean eyed the pink plate suspiciously, but when he saw the amount of bacon Cas had given him… Still, it was a pink plate… Pink…   
“Don’ want pink plate.” Dean said. Cas tsked.  
“Now Deanie, don’t be ridiculous!” he reprimanded. “You’re a big strong little boy, aren’t you? So you can handle eating off of a pink plate, yeah?” Dean frowned at this. Yeah, he was big and strong. But pink was for girls. “Dean, pink is not just for girls.” Cas said sternly, lifting the pink and green fork to Dean’s mouth. He opened it just enough to eat the eggs, which he had to admit were lovely.  
“mmm, daddy,” he said, then coughed. It had slipped out against his will. He would not stop fighting this, he reminded himself.   
“Good, honey? Try some bacon, Daddy knows it's your favorite.” smiled Cas. He knew that Dean was upset with himself for letting it slip, but he was proud. Dean reached forward timidly— there were a lot of ways to mess up bacon, he thought— and took a bite. He immediately exhaled in satisfaction, head dropping forward. It was perfect. Cas smiled and took a bite of his own breakfast while Dean chewed his bacon. He sipped his coffee, warm and sweet, and took another bite, holding Dean’s toast to his face as he did the same. Dean bit the middle, and Cas nearly facepalmed. The crust. What kind of baby ate crust? Castiel gave Dean a bite of his eggs then took his toast, cutting the crust off. “There, all better,” he said, putting it back up to his face. Dean took another bite, nodding and chewing happily.  
Breakfast passed slowly, sunshine streaming in through the window. Dean enjoyed his bacon and though he’d never admit it, he loved being fed. It made eating even more enjoyable. “There, Deanie, mmmm. Good breakfast, huh?” Cas smiled. Nodding, Dean opened his mouth for another bite. All too soon, Dean’s plate was empty and Cas shook his head, refusing the boy more. “You had a lot, honey. No more for a while.” said Cas, handing the boy a cup of water instead. Dean grumbled as daddy- ahem, Cas- wiped his face and took the tray off of his chair.  
He whined, wishing he could undo the buckles himself, but instead he waited patiently, putting his hands up for Cas to hold him as soon as they were undone. Cas lifted him, smile on his face, and set him down in the playpen, moving to the couch himself. Dean looked up at him with wide eyes. Couldn’t daddy tell he didn’t want to be alone, or even play? He just wanted to be held.  
“Daddy, hold me?” he asked. Cas didn’t hesitate, just standing and lifting the boy. The pair cuddled on the recliner, fitting together like two parts of a broken toy. Dean looked up at Cas from where he laid, his chin on daddy’s belly, and watched his daddy’s hand. Cas lazily stroked Dean’s hair, fluffing it and touching all the right places to make Dean lean against his hand, smiling. He yawned.   
“Ready for your nap?” asked Cas. Dean groaned, shaking his head, and snuggling into his daddy. “I know, you wanna sleep with daddy. But daddy wants you to take a nap, sleep alone for a little while.” Cas said, standing, much to Dean’s chagrin. He was rather tired, and didn’t even notice the trickle of urine into his diaper. Cas did, though, and walked up to the bedroom. Groaning, Dean was set down on the changing table, Cas working his magic and changing him as quickly and gently as possible. “There’s my boy,” soothed Castiel, zipping his onesie back up. “Now take a nap, baby. Daddy will be back soon.” he smiled, putting the boy in his crib. Dean whined, standing, but knew he was out of luck when Cas turned his sound machine on and closed the door. He sat down, elbows on his knees, and pouted. If Cas would insist on being his daddy, why couldn’t he give him everything he wanted? He reached for his blanket and with another yawn, felt around for a pacifier. He wanted badly to suck his thumb but he didn’t want Cas to be upset, so he found a pacifier. Daddy would be appalled, he thought— it didn’t match his outfit. Still, pacifier securely in his mouth, blanket in hand, sounds of the ocean in the background, Dean fell asleep shortly. He slept for an hour, and drifted in and out of sleep for another thirty minutes. He felt his diaper grow full and squishy and warm during one of those moments but couldn’t be bothered to cry out. Daddy would get it, he thought, lids dropping back over his eyes.   
Cas checked the time. After yesterday’s fiasco, he wanted to give Dean a longer nap so he wouldn’t be as tired when he woke up. It had already been an hour and a half, so he figured it would be okay to wake him. Typically Dean would get restless as soon as he used his diaper, or needed to, including while he was sleeping, so it surprised Cas that he wasn’t awake yet. When Cas walked into the room, he turned the lights on low, turning his sound machine off, and lowered the crib bars. “Hey sleepyhead,” he said as Dean's eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. A pacifier in his mouth, his blanket in his arms, Dean looked precious. He reached for his daddy then, nuzzling into his shoulder as soon as he was lifted, content to go back to sleep. “It’s time to get up, honey,” Cas soothed. He felt the boy’s diaper, and seeing that it needed to be changed, he laid him down again, causing Dean to cry out, dropping his pacifier. This of course caused a flood of tears, and Cas was quick to lift his baby again, soothing him and looking for another pacifier. He made a mental note to clip one to Dean’s shirt today and slid a navy blue one into his boy’s mouth, bouncing the tot a few times before setting him back down to be changed. Cas was pleased that Dean had used his diaper for its intended purpose, but frowned. It was fairly full, and the baby had had diarrhea at some point during his nap. That was unusual, as far as he was concerned, so Cas finished the change quickly, leaving Dean in just his diaper for a moment while he searched for the thermometer. A quick swipe across his forehead showed a low grade fever, and Cas groaned mentally. At least he would be taken care of this time when he was sick, unlike the last time, when he’d simply pulled the Impala over every hour or so to vomit. Cas pulled a tee shirt over Dean’s head— navy blue, with orange monsters on the front, and put a pair of shortalls on next, taking the blue pacifier from Dean just long enough to attach it to a clip, which he promptly put on Dean’s shirt. He didn’t normally use a pacifier unless he was asleep, Cas knew, but maybe being sick would make him littler. It already seemed to, at least.  
Dean was content to be carried to the kitchen and handed a genuine bottle, not even struggling against Cas when they sat on the recliner, giving him the bottle of water. Dean made no effort to hold it, merely drinking, eyes closed. After half of the bottle was gone, Cas took it, and realized he hadn’t heard Dean say a word since he’d woken from his nap. “Dean?” he asked cautiously. The boy opened his eyes, looking at him tiredly. “Oh,” Cas sighed. “My poor baby. You don’t feel good, do you?” he asked. Dean shook his head, and indeed, he looked fairly miserable. “I’m sorry, honey. How can daddy help you to feel better?” Dean hesitated for a moment, seeming to think.   
“Popsicle?” he asked. Cas shrugged, standing and walking to the freezer. He knelt, one knee up as a seat for Dean, and opened the freezer, offering him all the popsicles in the freezer. Dean shook his head firmly, though.   
“Okay, so those aren’t right..” he thought aloud. Dean nodded, confirming his assumption. “Can you explain to daddy why?”   
“Mumma made em, daddy.” yawned Dean, head on his shoulder, miserable. Cas started to panic. How could he ever get Mary’s recipe down? He took a deep breath, hoping Dean wouldn’t notice the way it shuddered. He didn’t think he’d have to worry about a sick baby for a while yet, and he didn’t know if he was ready.   
“How did she make the popsicles?” asked Cas.   
“Secret, daddy. Don’ know.” Cas felt panic rise in his chest. A secret. Maybe it was something the boys didn’t like, then? And Mary had insisted that it be a secret so they wouldn’t refuse it?  
“What did it taste like?” Dean thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Was it fruity?” Dean shook his head firmly. “Did it taste like candy?” Another no. Cas was running out of options. “Okay, Dean-o. Daddy is going to put you in your playpen while he makes your popsicles, okay?” asked Cas. Dean nodded, and let himself be put down when Cas got to the playpen.   
Cas went back to the kitchen and paced. It wasn’t fruity or chocolately, like candy. Dean didn’t know what was in it. What could it be? Had John ever made it once Mary died? Probably not, at least not for Dean.  
But maybe for Sam.  
Cas took another deep breath, and sighed it out heavily, wiping at his face with his hands. Sam would probably ask so many questions he didn’t want to or couldn’t answer, but it was for his baby, so Cas picked up the phone and dialed Sam’s number.  
“Hey, Cas.” answered Sam cooly.  
“Hello, Sam.” he said, uncertain if he’d made the correct choice. An awkward pause followed. Just as Cas began to speak, so did Sam, and there was awkward laughter.  
“So, uh, what’s up?” asked Sam. Cas cast his eyes to Dean, curled up with his blanket, pacifier in his mouth.   
“Dean, um,” coughed Cas.  
“Oh, is he okay?” asked Sam, worry evident in his voice.   
“No, no, yeah. Yeah, no, he’s fine.” In trying to reassure Sam, Cas was tripping over his words. “He’s, uh, yeah. Yeah, he’s fine. He, just, um,” Cas paused. “He’s not feeling very well, and he remembers your mother making something for you boys when you were sick, but isn’t sure how she made it. I know you’re too young to remember your mom making it, but—“   
“Ginger ale. Freeze it in popsicle molds.” Sam interrupted. “Upset stomach? Low grade fever?” he asked. Cas was taken aback at how well Sam knew what was happening.  
“Oh. Uh, yeah, that’s it.” answered Cas. “Thanks, Sammy.”   
“Just Sam, Cassie.” he said. “By the way… if this persists, take Dean to get his ears checked out. It happens to him once in a while.” Cas could hear the grin in his voice.   
“Thanks, Sam.” Cas smiled back. When the call ended, Cas mojoed up the necessary materials, and made the popsicles. Using his mojo, he froze them immediately, and popped one out of the mold, putting the rest back in the freezer. “Here, Deanie baby.” he said, smiling. “Daddy made your popsicle.” Dean’s eyes widened as he put his arms up to be held, spitting his pacifier out.  
“Good jobs daddy!!!! You made it perfect!” Dean exclaimed, though it was obvious that he was still sick. The pride was evident in his voice. Cas lifted Dean, placing him on his hip, and moving to the recliner. Dean took the popsicle in his hands, curling up against Cas, and Cas toyed with his hair in that familiar way. When the popsicle was gone, he took the stick, mojoing it away. “Dean, baby, how are you feeling?”  
Dean didn’t look at Cas. He yawned, and curled into his daddy. “Baby, answer daddy please.” he tried. Dean shrugged. “Does your tummy hurt?” he nodded. “Feel sick, like you might throw up?” Dean nodded again. Cas sighed, and lifted the boy. He had once read a book, a children’s book made for humans, where a sick child took a warm bath and felt better. “Let’s go take a bath, Dean.” he suggested. Dean cocked his head to one side.   
“Already taked a bath, Daddio.” Dean reminded Cas. Cas smiled.   
“Yes baby, I know. Let’s take another one. No washing, just relaxing.” Cas explained. Dean shrugged and Cas took it as an okay, standing with his boy on his hip. He took another bottle of water upstairs with them and started the bath, stripping Dean as it filled. His diaper hasn’t been used at all, but Cas couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Cas stripped too, climbing into the tub with Dean in his arms, and settling him down in his lap. Dean snuggled into him, and the skin on skin contact made the moment feel special, even more than normal. An absent-minded kiss pressed to Dean’s forehead, the warmth of the water, Dean’s weight on Cas… It was the perfect feeling. Dean seemed to feel a bit better after a few minutes, staring lovingly at Cas. “Thirsty?” he asked. Dean nodded, and Cas fed him a bottle. “Hungry?”  
Dean shook his head. “uh uh, Daddy. Don’t wanna eat. Don’t wanna get sick.” he said.   
“Some soup will make your tummy warm and happy” Cas bargained. Dean shrugged. “Just a little, babe.” he said. “Let’s finish your bath up and put some comfier clothes on, then we can make some soup.” Cas told him. Feeling the way the boy’s skin pruned a few moments later, Cas stood and dried himself off, then Dean. He walked back to the nursery, Dean on his hip, and dressed him in black sweats and a tiger-themed onesie, and put a tiger striped pacifier on an orange and black clip, attaching it to Dean’s shirt. “There.” he said. “Now let your daddy get dressed and we can go downstairs.” Some sweats and a tee shirt later, Cas was ready too, and the pair were quickly downstairs.  
“Dada, no.” Dean said when Cas tried to put him down in the high chair. Cas smiled. He should be irritated—most parents would be—but it was just sweet that Dean adored him so much in that moment. So instead, he adjusted the baby on his hip and went to work on some chicken noodle soup. (From a can, of course. From a can was Cas’ specialty). He cut the soft noodles in half with a spoon for Dean once the soup was warm, and it was only then that Dean reluctantly and begrudgingly sat in his chair. Cas fed him tiny bites. praising him highly when he finished half a bowl, yet noticing the way his eyes drooped. “Five more bites, Dean, and you’re all done.” he said. Dean nodded tiredly, eating them slowly, as though he was savoring them. The broth had to feel good in his stomach, Cas thought, and the noodles were at least of some substance. Much to Dean’s chagrin, Cas put the bowl in the sink before he lifted him, walking to the couch. He mojoed up a trash can for Dean to vomit into if necessary and settled down on the recliner. Dean sat on his lap, back against his chest, pacifier in his mouth. Cas somehow felt it coming in the seconds just before, and grabbed the bucket, holding it to Dean’s face just as a stream of vomit came out of his mouth. Up came all of his lunch and anything that was left of his breakfast. The world seemed to stand still for a moment when Dean was done, until his cry pierced the silence. “Shhh, baby. Shhh. Daddy is here.” Cas soothed. Still, Dean sobbed on. “Hush, hush, shhhh… You’re safe, Dean. All done being sick for right now.” he added, handing the boy some water to rinse his mouth with. He did as he was told and felt better, the cries lessening gradually until he was quiet, just the occasional whimper. Daddy rubbed his back the whole time, and pulled him into a tight hug when the cries stopped. “Daddy’s got you, Dean.” he said. “You need changed, don’t you?” he asked. Dean nodded miserably, and Cas mojoed the changing supplies to himself, laying Dean on the couch and changing his diaper. Diarrhea again, and nearly a leak this time. Cas sighed. “I’m sorry, honey.” he said, though Dean wasn’t interested. With his pacifier in his mouth, all he could think about was getting back into daddy’s arms.   
Soon, and yet not soon enough for either, the pair were reunited, cuddling again in the recliner. Cas leaned it the whole way back, covering them with a blanket and letting Dean have a second nap while he worried. Dean couldn’t stay sick like this for long. He could barely drink anything; how would he survive? He wondered what he could do about Sam’s suggestion to check on Dean’s ears. Perhaps he could call in a friend. Gabriel had spent some time learning medicine once, for apparently no reason. He claimed he’d been bored, a reasonable enough excuse as any. Yes, Cas decided. As soon as Dean was awake, he’d send for Gabriel.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas let his mind drift for a while, and eventually fell into a restful state himself. Unlike Dean, he didn’t need to sleep, but not unlike Dean, he enjoyed it. Awoken about an hour later by a stirring Dean, he rubbed his boy’s back. Sleepy, he couldn’t get to the bucket in time, and Dean vomited all over his chest, and promptly erupted into inconsolable tears. Cas mojoed himself clean and held Dean, who tried to wiggle away, embarrassed.  
“I sorry, daddy! So sorry!!!!” he cried out. Cas’ heart broke. “Daddy, so sorry!” he tried again.  
“Shh, shh,” Cas tried, to no avail.  
“Didn’ mean it, daddy!” Dean said, whining.   
“Shh, hush, I know Dean, Daddy knows.” Still, Dean bawled. “Dean, daddy isn’t mad, Daddy knows it was an accident. Let’s calm down so we don’t get sick again.” Cas said, his voice level. Dean nodded and sniffed hard, trying to compose himself. As soon as his boy was calm enough, Cas took a deep breath, not bothering to hide the way it shuddered this time. “Deanie, our friend Uncle Gabriel is coming to visit.” he said. Dean was paralyzed in fear or shock or both.  
“Noooooo!” he finally said. “Just want daddyyyy!” he said.  
“Uncle Gabriel,” began Cas, “is going to help you feel better so that you can stop throwing up. Let him help you, Dean-o.” Still, Dean shook his head.  
“Hurt, not help. He hurt. He no help.” he said.  
“Dean Winchester.” said Cas. “You look at your daddy right now.” His tone was stern. “I will never, ever let anybody hurt you when I’m around.” he said. “And I would never bring someone who would hurt you to this home.” Dean nodded, subdued. “You are my priority, as are your safety and your health. I will always keep you safe.” Cas finished. “Can you give daddy a hug now?” Dean was still trying to twist away from Cas, but hugged him tightly for a moment, earning a smile from his daddy. “Would you feel better if you were wearing your big boy clothes when you met uncle Gabriel?” asked Cas, on a hunch. Dean bit his lip, looking away and nodding.  
“No diaper?” he pushed.   
“Honey, you need a diaper.” Cas said.   
“Nuh uh, Cassie.” argued Dean. Cas cocked his head to the side, shocked at the sass coming out of his little one. Refusing to call him daddy? Silly little thing.   
“Dean, let me check your diaper right now.” said Cas, knowing it was at the least wet.  
“Okay.” said Dean, challenging Cas, who nearly faltered before remembering that he was the daddy here. Even more, his diaper had to be wet. It had to. Cas stood, carrying Dean to the nursery, and checking his diaper.   
Wet, just as he’d suspected. He took it off and held it out to Dean, showing him the wetness indicator on the front. “You didn’t know you were wet, which means you didn’t know you had to go potty. What’s gonna happen if daddy lets you wear undies?” asked Cas. Dean scowled.   
“Wet my pants,” he admitted.   
“Deanie, Uncle Gabriel isn’t going to care if you’re wearing a diaper. You’re his nephew. He just wants to make you feel better!” encouraged Cas.  
“Don’ wanna wear a diaper. ‘barassed.” Dean stared at his feet on the changing table.  
“What makes you feel embarrassed about a diaper?” Cas asked.   
“Diaper is for babies. Dean is not— I am not a baby.” Dean said, a hint of littleness gone. It was a slap to the face for Cas. “I mean, this is ridiculous!” he started into him. “I’m a thirty four year old man! Why are you doing this? Because I wet the bed? Maybe I liked it, Cas! Maybe I was fine, and now I’m not, and all because you—“  
“Dean, enough!” Cas said, tears in his eyes.   
“No! I’m not okay anymore, I don’t even know who I am, all because you want to make me do this for some sick, perverted reason! I don’t even know when I have to take a piss anymore. I’m sitting here, completely naked from the waist down and helpless because of you. I was never supposed to leave Sam alone, and now he’s alone, and it’s all you—“ This time, Dean was cut off by his own body, vomiting. There was an eerie silence when he was done. Both knew that he’d had some discharge from both ends, and that it needed to be taken care of.   
Cas decided to wait for Dean to make the first move, to say something first. He stared at Dean, who still stared at his feet. “I’m sorry…” Dean said. “Daddy.” Cas couldn’t help but smile.   
“It’s okay, Dean.” said Cas. “Would you like to take a shower?” he asked.   
“No daddy. Bath, please.” And just like that, meek and little Dean was back. Cas lifted his boy, kissing his head, and carried him to the tub. He took his time, washing him with love and gentle touches. Dean could swear he’d heard him humming “Carry on My Wayward Son” under his breath, but he wasn’t sure. He was just enjoying the bliss, the warmth of the bath and the way Cas’ hands glided over him, always to love and soothe and never to hurt him.  
“Daddy is sorry he pushed you, Dean.” Said Cas quietly as he dried Dean. “It wasn’t fair for me to ask you to go all in so quickly.” he said, meek. Despite Dean’s whines of protest, he continued. “Daddy understands if you need a break, Dean, or if you don’t want to do it anymore.” He coughed. “I understand.”  
Dean shook his head, tearful. “No daddy. I loves daddy so much. Daddy never hurts Dean. John hurted me and made me feel icky and sad, dada. You never does that.” explained Dean. He reached up to wipe the one tear that fell down Cas’ face, wishing he’d been strong enough, and more understanding, to do it earlier.   
“Thank you, Dean.” was all Cas said as he finished drying his boy. He held out a pull up and a diaper, and to his surprise, Dean took the diaper without question. Cas laid him down, diapering him, and mojoed his adult clothes into the room.   
“No daddy, want clippies,” he said. He made a motion on his pecs, though Cas didn’t understand what he meant until he reached back to his shoulder and pulled back to his pec, as though he were drawing a suspender on his body.   
“Oh, you want your… Okay, honey. Clippies it is.” he said, mojoing them and a pale pink shirt with a baby blue collar, and baby blue at the ends of the short sleeves. Even though the shirt was pink, Dean let him slip it over his head easily. pulling it down and putting his now beloved “clippies” on. One baby blue pacifier with a block-patterned clip later, Dean was deemed dressed. “Ready for Uncle Gabriel?” asked Cas. Dean nodded, putting his pacifier in his mouth and raising his hands to be held. Cas obliged and asked Gabriel to come over using his mojo. Just a moment later, Gabriel materialized in their kitchen. Cas felt Dean tighten his grip on his daddy, though possibly involuntary. “Hello, Gabriel.” Cas greeted cooly, subtly patting Dean’s bottom. “Dean, can you say hello to Uncle Gabriel?” asked Cas.   
“Hi” said Dean softly.   
“Hi Dean. I hear you’re not feeling well.” Gabriel responded softly. “Do you think I could take a look at you and try to help you feel better?” he asked. Dean nodded. “Could you tell me what hurts?” he asks.   
Dean looked at Cas. “Babe, let’s show him, huh?” suggested Cas. Dean shrugged and pointed to his head, ears, and belly. “Good job, Dean.” said Cas.  
“Yes, good job,” Gabriel said quickly. “Say, Dean, could I get a look at your ears?” he asked. Dean nodded, shifting his head where it lay on Cas’ shoulder so that Gabriel could get to his ear. As soon as he touched it, though, Dean yelped in pain, startling Cas and Gabriel.   
“Sorry dada, sorry Unca Gabriel, just hurted.” Dean said.   
“No worries, Dean. I’ll be gentle this time, okay?” Gabriel asked, before Cas could even get a word in. Dean nodded, and Gabriel approached his ear again, being careful to move slowly. He put a small instrument in it and looked, tutting. “Other one, Dean?” he asked. Dean obliged, and Gabriel shook his head after he took a look. “Okay, buddy. Thanks. I think I know what the problem is now.” He smiled easily. “Cassie, could I speak to you privately about this for a moment?” he asked.   
“Sure, sure. Dean, wait for daddy in your playpen.” said Cas, depositing Dean there.   
“Dude,” Gabriel began when they were alone. “No wonder he’s sick. His ears are incredibly inflamed.” he said.   
“So what can we do?” asked Cas, fidgeting.   
“You could use your grace to heal him. Or we could do drops in his ears.” said Gabriel.  
Cas sighed. “Gabe, you know human bodies don’t always react well to grace.” he said.  
“Unless they’re bonded enough with the angel,” argued Gabriel. “Dean adores you. He won’t be hurt. Honest.”   
“We has a fight before you got here.”  
“Okay, so what? He’s a kid.”  
“I’m hurting him, Gabe.”  
“No, Cassie, you aren’t.”   
“He said I was.”  
“He’s a child. Give him the damn grace, Cas.” Gabriel sighed, frustrated. Cas looked up, then dropped his head down. “Cassie, you aren’t hurting him. You’re a great dad. He wouldn’t cling to you like that or let you change him if you weren’t.” he said. “Give me a hug, and then give him some grace. I’m leaving soon, but not before I say goodbye to my nephew.” he said. Cas nodded, a sense of renewed hope in his heart, following Gabriel back into the living room. “Hiya, Dean!” smiled Gabriel. “Daddy is gonna help you get feeling better soon, okay?” He asked. Dean nodded, reaching up to be held. Cas reached in, but Dean shook his head.   
“Unca Gabriel?” he asked shyly. Cas’ heart seemed to melt as his boy went to Gabriel, hugging him tightly. “Thanks for helping me feel better, Unca Gabriel,” said Dean.   
“You’re welcome, kiddo. Want your daddy now?” asked Gabriel after the hug. Dean nodded and Cas held out his hands.  
“Don’t worry,” whispered Dean into his ear. “I still love you best.” Cas smiled and kissed him on the cheek.   
“Me too, babe.” he said.


	7. Chapter 7

Gabriel gave Cas one last hug and then left. “Okay, let's change that diape.” Dean erupted into giggles at the shortened word and smiled even through his diaper change. It seemed as though he was already starting to feel better. When he was changed and redressed, pacifier in his mouth, Cas took him to the living room and left him in the playpen for a moment.  
With a shaky breath, Cas went to the kitchen alone, reaching for a knife. He just needed a little slice somewhere he could access easily— his palm, probably. Though he had no reason to be worried (and he knew it), he was anyway. For Dean, he reminded himself. It was for Dean. He slit a small cut into his palm, holding a bottle to it, and watched in wonder as the grace drained into the bottle and blood drained away from it. When it was a quarter full, he moved it away, and the bleeding stopped, as did the flow of grace. He filled the bottle the rest of the way with milk and gave it a good shake. “Okay, Deanie. Let’s try some milk now.” he said, lifting Dean. The pair laid in the recliner, Dean poised to receive the bottle and entirely uninterested in holding it.   
Cas held his breath as the bottle touched Dean’s lips. Dean sucked greedily, not flinching at all. “Drink slow.” he instructed, watching Dean’s face for any hint of discomfort. When halfway through, Dean hadn’t started to convulse violently, Cas figured they were in the clear, and let out a single, shaking breath. Dean finished the bottle, and confirmed that he already felt better, and Cas sighed with relief, kissing his forehead. “Thank you for being so good to your uncle today, Dean.” he added. His baby nodded.   
“Daddy, I eat food?” he asked.   
“Sure, babe. Let’s start with some toast.” said Cas.  
The toast stayed down, and Cas was finally sure that Gabriel had given him the right instructions. After a kids movie (at Dean’s suggestion!) and lots of snuggles, Dean was feeling much, much better, and was able to keep another snack, this one of dry cereal and a banana, in his tummy.  
“Okay, babe. Let’s get a bath now and get into our PJS, hmm?” Cas said, lifting Dean out of the high chair. They walked to the bathroom, where Cas undressed Dean and changed him- no diarrhea, he was happy to note, and put him in the tub.   
The bath passed more quickly than the others had, as Dean seemed exhausted, and Cas knew he couldn’t fall asleep in the bathtub. Dean was dressed quickly in footie pajamas and given the matching pacifier, and the pair moved to the rocking chair. Cas picked out a book and rocked with Dean as he read, and by the end, his little one was asleep. Cas couldn’t help but smile as he lowered Dean into the crib and pulled the blanket to his chin. Noise machine and baby monitor on, lights off and door shut, Dean would sleep soundly.  
He wasn’t quite ready for bed yet, so Cas walked to the kitchen and filled several more bottles with some grace. It felt odd, and he didn’t like feeling weak, but he knew that it would help Dean, and that’s all he cared about. He added milk and put the bottles in the fridge, and went up to bed. Some sleep— genuine, human-like sleep— would help him regain his grace more quickly.   
It turned out that he would need it.  
A piercing cry rang out on the baby monitor, causing Cas to flail around in bed, blankets wrapped around his sweaty body. He hurried to the nursery, where Dean stood in his crib. Tears streaming down his face and vomit dripping from his chin, he looked plain pitiful, and Cas felt even worse. He whisked Dean out of the crib and held him to his chest, bouncing ever so slightly as to calm the boy. “Shhhhhhhh, Dean-o. Shhh…” he murmured.   
“Da-da-dadddyyyy,” sobbed Dean. “Was so scared, daddy,” he hiccuped, sniffing Cas’ shirt. “You weren’t there and was scared it wasn’t real!”   
“No baby, daddy is real, this is all real.” Cas confirmed. “Let daddy clean you up quick.” he said, mojoing everything clean. “And lets get a bottle and some cuddles in, and we’ll go back to bed.” he soothed. Dean nodded, face buried in Castiel’s shirt.   
Cas warmed a bottle in the kitchen. and sat in the rocking chair to feed Dean the mixture of grace and milk. “Better, daddy.” Said Dean eventually, after the bottle was long gone.   
“Okay, baby. How bout you close your eyes, and daddy’ll put you in the crib when you fall asleep?” asked Cas. Dean nodded, and when Cas heard the gentle snores, he was sure the boy was fine. Back into the crib he went, pacifier in its proper position.   
Cas fell back into bed too, and didn’t wake up until nearly 10:00 the next morning. When he went to the nursery, he found Dean sound asleep as well. However, as Cas shut the door behind him, Dean jolted awake and began to cry.  
“Daddy, daddy, had nightmare!” he said.   
Cas asked Gabriel if grace could cause nightmares as he lifted Dean, and Gabriel’s easy “nope, not that i know of” calmed him slightly. It was nice to be able to communicate so efficiently.   
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” said Cas. “What happened in your nightmare?” He asked, laying Dean down to be changed.   
“Don’ member… Was scary, though. Wanted daddy.” he said, a little sad. Then he brightened; “and then daddy was there!” he grinned.  
“Yep baby, daddy’s right here!” answered Cas with a smile as he finished the change.  
During breakfast a short while later, Dean said “Daddy, you smell good,” completely out of the blue.   
“Yeah baby? Thanks.” smiled Cas cheekily. “I think you smell good too.” he laughed.   
“Can wear daddy’s shirt today?” asked Dean, happily eating his french toast.   
“A clean one? Sure, Dean.”  
“No dada, the one you’re wearing now.” he said. “Smells like my daddy.” Cas laughed and nodded.   
“Sure, little one. Daddy’s shirt is all yours.” It was gray, and he had a white and gray pacifier with a sheep on it that he’d been meaning to use. “But gotta finish your breakfast first.” he said. Dean opened his mouth for another bite, then took a sip of his chocolate milk. “Sure enjoying a sugary breakfast this morning.” Cas laughed. Nodding heartily, Dean opened his mouth again. “Last bite!”  
Breakfast over, and after a wrestling match to get the syrup off of Dean’s face, the pair were in the nursery. “Daddy, your shirt?” he asked. Cas slipped it off and moved to put deodorant on Dean. “No baby deodor’n, daddy. Want daddy deodor’n!” he said. Dean sure was fond of the way his daddy smelled, Cas noted as he rolled it on. He pulled his own shirt over Dean’s head.  
“Want some white clippies today?” asked Cas. Dean shook his head, and Cas was surprised. “No clippies?”  
“Wan’ daddy jeans.” he said.  
“Dean-o, daddy wore these jeans yesterday too. They need washed.” Cas told him. “So let’s wear white clippies today.” he said. Though he grumbled, Dean ultimately agreed to the shortalls, on the condition of his daddy’s cologne being sprayed on him. It was beginning to sadden Cas that his baby wouldn’t smell like baby anymore, truth be told. “Babe,” he asked as he fastened the overalls. “Why do you wanna smell like daddy so much?” he asked.   
“Daddy smells good…” Dean said. He toyed with the cartilage on his ear, and it was obvious to Cas from that one movement that he was lying.  
“Dean, are you sure that’s the only reason?” he tested.  
“Well, uh, daddy…” Dean avoided eye contact at all costs, stuffing his pacifier in his mouth before mumbling something. Cas tugged on the pacifier, but Dean held it tight with his teeth.   
“Dean, I’m going to count to three. If you don’t take the pacifier out by the time I get to three, you’re going in time out for five minutes” Cas said. Still, the pacifier remained. “One…” No response. Cas looked at him, a warning look in his eyes before continuing. “Two…” Dean closed his eyes, blocking his ears with his hands— a futile defense against Cas’ “three.” Cas sighed. “Okay, you made your decision. Time out for five minutes.” he said. Lifting Dean, he walked him to the kitchen and put him in the highchair, no straps. “If you try to get up, you’ll double your time. Daddy will be watching.” Cas said. He walked away, but just far enough so that the chair was still in his obvious sight.  
Five minutes passed like a year for Dean, squirming and moving around in his chair. But he wa still a little afraid to defy his daddy— he was the daddy, after all— and so he didn’t get up. Three minutes in, he called out “daddy, can I use my paci?”   
“Yes, Dean,” came the response. “You have two minutes left. Then daddy will come talk to you about what happened.” Dean said nothing, just sniffing his armpit and popping the pacifier in his mouth. After an agonizing one hundred and twenty seconds, his daddy came to his rescue. This time, he spit out the pacifier immediately, hoping not to double his time. “Good boy, Dean” he was praised.  
“Hug?” he asked. Cas said nothing but hugged him and held him tight.  
“Okay, little one. Let’s talk.” said Cas. “Now, daddy wants to know something so he can help to make it better.” Dean nodded. “But my baby isn’t being honest with me, Deanie. Do you know how I know?” he asked. Dean shook his head. “When you lie, your forehead turns red.” he said. It was a long shot, sure, but if Dean would believe him, he would always know when he was lying, just by looking at him. Sure enough, Dean, in his little state, bought the line.   
“Oh…” he said. “Sorry, daddy.”  
“So can we tell the truth about the question daddy asked you?” tried Cas. Dean nodded.  
“I wanna smell like daddy so when I get scared I can close my eyes ‘n smell daddy and think he’s here so I safe.” Dean explained.   
“Baby,” Cas said, ignoring the pain in his heart. “Daddy is always here.”  
“Not when I sleep alone daddy,” explained Dean. “Don’t like when I have a nightmare and wake up alone and scared.” he said.  
“Dean, do you have a lot of nightmares?” Dean nodded. “Would it make you feel better and safer if daddy made you a blanket or a stuffy with his shirt? That way, you wouldn’t feel alone until daddy got there?” Cas asked. Dean’s eyes shone as he nodded. “Okay, honey. Which one?”  
“Both?” asked Dean.  
“Hmm… what about a compromise?” Dean cocked his head, but waited for Cas to continue. “Daddy will make you a stuffy with his shirt, and you can keep another one of daddy’s shirts in your bed in case you’re scared. And I can make you a blanket with pictures of us on it, that way you’re never ever alone. Does that sound good?” he asked. Dean nodded and put his arms out to be held again, a request that Cas was more than happy to oblige. “Okay Deanie. Let’s take a picture now to use for the blanket.” he suggested, pulling out his phone. He kissed Dean on the cheek and took the picture, smiling at the result. “There we go, baby.” Dean nodded in agreement, holding onto his daddy and kissing him.


	8. chapter 8

“Daddy, can we play outside?” asked Dean.   
“Sure!” Cas answered. “Sunscreen first.” he added, mojoing a bottle up and applying some to Dean’s face. “And here. Take this.” Castiel plopped a baseball hat onto Dean’s head, bill toward the back. “Let daddy take your picture, Dean.” Grinning hugely, Dean looked up at Cas, looking young and precious as ever. “There’s daddy’s baby,” he smiled. The pair went outside, squinting in the sun, and Cas mojoed a swingset in front of them. Some of Dean’s earliest and fondest memories were swinging, and though he’d never admit it, he still loved the feeling of being weightless in the air and would take any chance he could to get it. He still remembered the first time he’d gotten Sammy to pump his legs so they could both swing at the same time. He’d been so proud of himself.   
“Wanna try it out?” asked Cas, as though the answer wasn’t obvious.   
“Yes!” Dean said, excited. He was not thrilled at its design— a baby swing, only large enough for Dean— but still, he couldn’t help feeling as though Cas had just given him the world. “C-cas,” he began. “Why’s it gotta be a baby swing?”   
“Well, Deanie, I hate to tell you, but you’re a baby, and babies use baby swings, so it’s a baby swing,” Cas answered, voice thick with sarcasm. Dean wrinkled his nose at the way he was being spoken to. “And my dear, I am your daddy. Address me as such, please.” he reminded, deepening Dean’s frown.  
“I wanna swing.” was all Dean said, wiggling to get out of Cas’s arms. For the first time since this ordeal had begun, Dean found himself standing on his own two feet and taking a step. Managed a singular step before he fell, too, and looked up at Cas with fear in his eyes. “Wha— why’d that happen?” he began to panic.   
“Your leg muscles just weren’t expecting that, Dean. You’re okay.” Cas soothed, picking him up.  
“No, no. I don’t like that. I gotta, I need to be able to walk,” said Dean. “Put me down, I gotta try again. I can walk, I’m a grown man.” he said, shaking his head to erase any doubt he’d had. Cas obliged, and Dean took it far more slowly the second time. He let his bare feet touch the grass and feel the dirt for a moment before actually standing, and then waited to take a shaky step. He put his arms out to steady himself and took another, nodding. “Yeah, I got it.” he mumbled to himself. A third, a fourth— he was getting better at this, and picked up his pace.  
That was a mistake. He fell back, flat on his ass, and wasn’t sure why, but started to cry. Maybe it was the combination of surprise and pain and emotional hurt and disappointment, or maybe it was just frustration, but he cried. Cas whisked him up, offering little comfort before settling him into the seat and beginning to push. The wind against his face dried the tears and after a few minutes in, he was giggling and smiling in the way only a just-crying child can, in a broken way. Pushing harder, Cas hoped that Dean could learn to accept this, to let go of his big personality and obsession with being strong. Cas had promised him that if he didn’t like what was happening, he could stop, but he’d hoped he wouldn’t want to. Now, he worried he’d be without Dean, and truth be told, he was terrified. With Dean there, he hadn’t felt as alone as he had in the months before; he had a purpose, to love and care for another person, and to make his life better. If that were taken away from Cas, he would go back to the life of unimportance, of pain, that he had lived before.   
“Daddy,” Dean’s voice broke the noise in his head. “Could I have a hug?” Cas grabbed the swing on its next trip back, walking forward slowly to stop the boy. He picked Dean up out of the swing and held him tightly, tighter than he’d expected, partially because he needed it and partially because Dean had asked, and that meant he must’ve needed it too. “Thank you.” he said quietly.   
“Do you like your swing?” asked Cas. Dean nodded.  
“Love it, thank you daddy.” he hugged his daddy again. Cas kissed his forehead and hoped he would like the swing better or ask to stay in longer when he didn’t feel so… off.   
“Dean, I know you’re struggling right now. How can daddy help you to feel better?” he asked. Dean shrugged. “Would you like to go back inside? Or what about if you and daddy take a little walk?”  
“Inside, daddy. Hungry.” he said. Cas took a glance at his watch. It was nearly 2:00, and though Dean had woken up late and eaten later, he probably was hungry.  
“Okay, babe. You didn’t nap today because you woke up so late. Do you want to take a nap after you eat, or go to bed earlier?” Cas said, walking in the house. Dean shrugged, and Cas took it as a yes, he’d need a nap. He set Dean down on the carpet on his feet, letting him stand alone for a few moments as he took his hat off and pushed his hair back, kissing his forehead and scooping him back up, putting him in his chair and doing the straps.   
“Thirsty daddy. Can I have a drink while you make lunch?” he asked. Cas nodded and handed over a cup of water. Dean took a sip and shook his head. “Nuh uh dada, doesn’t taste right” said Dean.   
“Dean, it’s water. You drink water all the time.” Cas responded, his back to Dean, focusing on making lunch.  
“Uh uh, it’s wrong.” Dean argued. Cas turned around and took his cup, and dumped out the water, refilling it.   
“Try now.” Cas suggested, turning around again to finish Dean’s PB&J&B&B aka peanut butter and jelly and banana and bacon.   
“No, daddy. Still missing.” he whined. Cas sighed, turning around to take the cup again. He held it to the cut on his hand, just out of Dean’s sightline and draining some grace into it. He screwed the top back on and shook it, handing him the cup.  
“Better?” he asked. Dean took a sip.  
“Yes daddy, that’s it.” Cas yawned, nodding, and turning around to finish lunch. He put the sandwich together and cut the crusts off, slicing it in half and handing it to his boy.  
“Have at it.” he smiled, turning around to make his own lunch.   
“Daddy, thanks for the Elvis sammich,” said Dean. Cas chuckled at this and ruffled Dean’s hair.   
“Welcome, baby.”   
When he was finished with lunch and his bottle, Dean settled down in Cas’s arms, slumped in them while Cas shifted his weight side to side, rocking him gently. Dean fought sleep though, much to Cas’ chagrin. The baby was half naked and Cas patted his diaper as he rocked, wishing he’d let himself get some rest. As soon as he would settle into a peaceful near-sleep, Dean jerked back awake, or every time Cas tried to set him down. Cas set him down, causing a flood of cranky crocodile tears, and checked his temperature. Just as he’d suspected, Dean had a fever. Ugh. This sickness just wouldn’t go away. “You need another bottle, mister.” he said. He filled this one halfway with grace and put gatorade in the other half, shaking it gently before sitting down on the couch to feed Dean, but he refused the bottle. “Dean, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” coaxed Cas. Dean simply struggled to sit up, Cas frowning and standing, Dean in his arms the way he had been when he’d been missing Mary, like holding a much larger newborn. Immediately, Dean opened his mouth and took a greedy suckle, and Cas nodded in approval, continuing to rock slowly and move every time Dean got antsy, which is how the pair ended up standing on the back porch, Dean finally asleep in Cas’ arms.  
As soon as Cas walked back inside, though, Dean started to stir. “Shh, shh. Hush, Deanie.” he said.  
“Cold, daddy. Want sun.” he mumbled.   
“Dean, you’ve got a fever. And we can’t be outside all day.” Still, Cas walked back outside. He’d just sent for the blanket of he and Dean to be made, and it was expected to be in the next day thanks to expedited shipping. Maybe if he could get Dean into a solid sleep outside, he could mojo up a blanket to wrap him up with and take him in. Yes, that would be a good idea. Cas mojoed up a pacifier and stuck it in Dean’s mouth, not surprised when he accepted it and settled again. When he started to snore— seemingly an eternity later, noted Cas— he mojoed up a blanket from Dean’s nursery with dinosaurs all over it and wrapped him up in it, being careful to move slowly and not wake him. When he didn’t even stir, Cas breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the heavens for pacifiers before going inside, walking slowly and setting Dean down in his crib. Cas slipped his shirt off and rubbed it under his armpits, putting it near Dean before turning on the sound machine and closing the door behind him.  
Cas cleaned up the house a bit, washing lunch dishes and tidying up toys. He filled more bottles with grace and lined them up, peeking at the clock. Dean needed his nap, and Cas could always use one after losing so much grace, but he didn’t want to. He missed his boy and anymore, he didn’t like to be alone. He sent for Gabriel, who appeared shortly afterwards.   
“What’s up, Cassie?” he asked. Cas shrugged.  
“Just feeling a little lonely, wanted some company.” he smiled.   
“How’s Dean?” Cas’s smile immediately turned into a frown. “Not good?” he asked.   
“He’s got a fever, and he’s been really hard to settle today. But we’re making it work, I guess.” Cas explained.   
“Here,” Gabriel said. “Take these. Three drops a day, twice a day. Once today, though.” He handed over a bottle of eardrops. Cas nodded.  
“Three drops, twice a day.” he repeated. “I understand. Thanks, Gabriel.” Gabriel shrugged, brushing it off.  
“Anything for my nephew. He sleeping now?” Cas nodded. “Poor kid. What was his temperature?”   
“Hundred point three.” Cas sighed.   
“Ah. Keeping him hydrated?” He spotted the bottle of gatorade, nodding in approval. “Atta boy, Cas.” A sound was heard on the baby monitor and Cas sighed. “Should I go?” asked Gabe.  
“Nah, maybe you’ll put a smile on his face.” Said Cas, already walking to the nursery. He picked Dean up, shushing him before a quick change. Messy again, and Cas couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. At least it wasn’t coming out the other end, but it was still not solid, and Cas worried. He took his shirt off of Dean, who whined, but slipped a footed sleeper on, which was warmer, and popped the (of course) marching pacifier into his little one’s mouth.


	9. 9

“Hey Dean!” grinned Gabriel as the pair walked into the room. “Got your race cars on, huh?” he asked, reaching out to touch his PJS.

“Hi Unca Gabe,” Dean said, still clinging to his daddy. Cas reached for the pacifier he’d let drop on its clip and offered it to him, surprised when he refused it. 

“Dean, what do you say you go to Uncle Gabe for a few minutes while daddy makes you a bottle?” Suggested Cas. Dean held his arms out and leaned toward Gabriel, who took him and held him close. He squirmed around, trying to get comfortable, sighing when he couldn’t. “Dean, be patient. I know you don’t feel very good but daddy wants you to have a drink. Gotta keep you hydrated.” Gabriel moved to the recliner, and just as Cas was about to warn him not to get comfortable, Dean settled on top of him, belly to belly. Raising his eyebrows and pouring the water and grace into a sippy cup instead of a bottle, Cas walked into the living room and handed Dean his drink.

“Drink up, Dean, so we can play!” Gabriel told him. Dean took a sip, suckling and nodding. He approved, it seemed, so maybe he was feeling better. When Dean had drained the cup, Gabriel stood, just a bit too quickly, and all of the water came back up out of Dean, who started to bawl. Gabriel didn’t react, just mojoing himself and the boy clean before standing. Though Dean tried to wiggle away, Gabriel soothed him, rocking side to side and rubbing his back. “There there, Deanie. Uncle Gabriel is sorry he rushed you.” he said.  
Cas handed the boy another cup, saying “swish and spit,” which Dean promptly did, calming down. “How about some juice?” tried Cas. He brought a bottle, half full of grace and the other half of red gatorade, and gave it to Gabriel, silently urging him to feed the boy. Gabriel was worried Dean would get sick again, and asked Cas if he’d just do it, but Castiel held firm, insisting that Gabriel try to feed his nephew again.

Dean drank far more slowly this time, curled against Gabriel sleepily. Gabriel rocked in the recliner while Cas warmed the eardrops in his hand. Gabriel had warned him that there was only one thing worse than ear drops, and that it was cold ear drops. “Deanie, could you let daddy see your ears a minute? I’m going to put some drops in to help them feel better.” said Cas. 

“Nooooo! No drops!” Dean cried out. 

“I’m sorry, Dean, but this is what daddy has to do to make your ears feel better.” Cas explained firmly. He tilted Dean’s head, opening the drops and counting three. Trying to be as gentle as possible (and failing, he thought), he rubbed Dean’s ear to help them fall. Dean was crying by this point, trying to wiggle away from everyone and all the pain he felt, and Cas felt terrible as he pushed a pacifier into his mouth so he could finish the job without hearing his cries. He went to the other side of Dean’s head and put three drops in, trying his hardest to massage them in without hurting Dean. “There’s daddy’s good boy,” Cas said, stepping away to put the drops down. “Do you need a change?” he asked, mostly rhetorically. Dean nodded, tearful. “Let’s let uncle Gabe change you, yeah?” Dean shook his head aggressively, making grabby hands at Cas. 

“Wan’ Daddy.” he said. Cas cracked a grin.  
“Okay. How bout daddy teaches uncle Gabriel this time, huh?” he tried. Dean shook his head again, face turning red, and Cas had a few ideas— either Dean was embarrassed or his diaper was messy. Maybe both. “Okay, uncle Gabriel. We’ll be right back, then.” he said, strolling to the nursery. Putting Dean down, he unzipped the sleeper. “So Dean,” began Cas. “Why didn’t you want Uncle Gabriel to help daddy change you?”

Dean covered his forehead carefully before saying “missed my daddy.” Cas was both offended that it was a lie and amazed at how cute Dean was.   
“Is that so?” he asked, taking Dean’s legs out of the sleeper. He undid the tapes and was surprised to see that it was just wet, not messy. “Or is Dean-o embarrassed? Hmm? Scared uncle G will see him as a baby?” guessed Cas, wiping Dean well before moving the diaper. “Bottom up,” he said as an aside, putting another diaper under him. Dean looked from side to side.

“Yeah dada, that’s it.” he admitted.

“Deanie, your uncle Gabriel loves you just like daddy does. He wants you to feel better and be safe and comfy. A wet diaper isn’t so comfy, huh?” Dean shook his head.

“No way,” he said. 

“Right. So uncle Gabriel wants to help with that. But he can’t do that if he doesn’t know how to change you, baby.” he said. “Next time uncle Gabriel is here, let’s teach him, okay?” asked Cas. Dean nodded, making grabby hands again for Cas. “Lemme finish your change, bub.” he said, doing the tapes and zipping him up, lifting the boy to his hip. 

“Hey, Dean!” smiled Gabriel. Cas set Dean down and took his hand, helping him take a few steps toward Gabriel, who knelt, hugging the tot. “Feeling better now?” he asked. Dean nodded.

“Sorry I frowed up on you, unca Gabe.” Dean said with the candid nature of a child, causing both Gabriel and Cas to erupt into laughter. 

“It’s okay, buddy.” Gabriel said. “Let’s play with some trucks, huh? Your daddy tells me you like playing cars. I have a little gift for you…” he said. Dean perked up at this, and Gabriel mojoed a large gift wrapped package into the room. It had to be taller than Dean was, had it been standing up. Cas tutted, while Dean stared at it like it was, as most would say, a three headed dragon, which was funny to Cas because he’d surely met one or two of those. To say he was surprised is an understatement.

“For me?” he asked timidly. Gabriel nodded.

“Go on, open it up.” he urged. Dean pulled gently at the paper until he exposed the box, opening it slowly. Inside, there were at least a hundred matchbox cars, a blue box “trailer” for them, and a rug. Dean’s eyes scanned the cars until he saw it. The one. Baby. He grabbed it immediately, hugging it to his chest.

“Thank you, uncle Gabriel!” he cheered.

“Take a look at this rug, Dean-o. And you’re welcome.” smiled Gabe cheekily. Gabriel lifted the rug out of the box for him and rolled it out. Before Dean’s eyes was a town, complete with hospitals and a fire department, a police station, houses, the post office… it was beautiful, Dean thought. The parking lots had tiny lines for the spaces and there were parks. It was also huge, spanning at least twice Dean’s size. 

“Guess we’ll need to turn daddy’s office into a playroom for my little guy, huh?” Cas smiled, ruffling his hair. “Thanks, Gabriel.” he added. He pulled him in for a hug and they all sat down on the rug, grabbing cars to play. Cas was exceptionally fond of the firetruck, while Dean barely strayed from the impala. Gabriel, for his part, was amused by all of the brightly colored cars he’d managed to find, and tried to wreck them into Cas’s firetruck, making Dean giggle. Eventually, though, Dean’s eyes started to get heavy. “Ready for your bath, Dean?” Cas asked. Dean nodded sleepily. “Gabriel, you wanna come with us?”   
“I should probably get going, but thanks.” smiled Gabriel in response, scooping Dean up for a hug. “Goodnight, buddy.” he said with a kiss to Dean’s head, passing him off to Cas. 

Bathtime was peaceful, Dean more interested in sleep than his toys. Cas finished the bath pretty quickly as a result, diapering the boy and pulling out footed PJs. They were pretty simple, just pale blue with white polka dots, and of course a matching pacifier, and Dean looked adorable in them, eyes dropping closed every few seconds. “Alright bub. Let’s have a bottle and get to bed.” Cas mojoed a bottle of milk and grace and sat in the rocking chair, feeding it to Dean and rocking him slowly. It was easily one of Cas’s favorite parts of their day.

“Pala, daddy.” yawned Dean, rubbing his eyes once his bottle was empty.

“Hmm?” Cas asked, amazed he’d managed to stay awake through the whole thing.

“Wan the pala.” Dean tried again. “Baby, daddy. Wan baby.” he said. His speech was slurred because he was so tired, but eventually Cas realized that he wanted the mini version of his car, and mojoed it to him, handing it over. Dean hugged it to his chest for a moment, a smile on his face. “Night baby.” Dean said to the toy.  
“Goodnight Deanie.” said Cas, putting the boy in bed and pulling the blanket over him. He popped a pacifier in Dean’s mouth and his eyes slid shut immediately. Cas turned the baby monitor on, the sound machine following shortly after, and has almost closed the door behind him when he peeked back at Dean.

There, toy impala clutched to his chest, eyes closed peacefully, blue and white pacifier in his mouth, Dean looked like the future to Cas, like his whole world. Some lights still on, Cas snapped a quick picture to send to Gabriel and then shut them off, door closing behind him.

Having a little one was really different for Cas. He didn’t have to sleep, and time when Dean was sleeping seemed to pass so slowly, especially when he went to bed earlier than usual, like tonight. He wasn’t really sure what to do when he was alone all the time. He looked up at the calendar, and facepalmed.

Easter! The next day was Easter, and Cas wasn’t even ready. He didn’t even know if Dean knew. But he was doing something anyway.   
He mojoed a huge basket up, and started listing Dean’s favorite foods, mojoing them into it. “Pie. Cookies. Chocolate…” he mumbled. What else could Dean use? “Bubbles, bubble bath…” he thought. “Chocolate bunny. That’s a thing, right?” he thought aloud, mojoing several to the basket. “Hmm… needs more.” Dean had plenty of clothes and more toys than he could need. But a pair of bunny ears wouldn’t hurt, Cas thought, and mojoed them up. Sunglasses too, and a few more baseball hats. As it got warmer, Dean would need more sun protection, so he added some sunscreen to the basket. It was getting full, but not full enough. “Hmm… how about some healthier snacks…?” he thought aloud. Some Goldfish crackers, and the sweet crackers shaped like bunnies too. He added a giant toy ball and a bow, and though he was displeased with it, called it done. He hid it in linen closet and decided to take a hot shower.

The next morning, Cas heard Dean stirring early, and went to him. “Good morning, Dean!” he smiled. “Do you know what today is?” Dean shook his head. Cas grinned, then looked side to side sneakily. “I hear that the Easter bunny came over night!” Dean’s eyebrows shot up and smile grew on his face. “Let’s change you now, so we can go look and see!” encouraged Cas. He made quick work of a change and then carried Dean out, taking Dean to wherever he pointed.

It didn’t take Dean long at all to find it, and soon he was on the floor in his playpen, looking at all his amazing new toys. Cas had heard of “edible easter grass” and put some in the basket at the very last minute, which amazed Dean. He was also very fond of the ball, which was perfect size for him to push around with Cas. Eyeing up the snacks, he handed one small chocolate bunny to Cas, eyes big and blinking. “Pwease, Daddy?” he asked.   
“Chocolate for breakfast?” asked Cas, incredulous. Dean frowned. “Why not?” he grinned. Dean clapped his hands and waited rather impatiently for his bunny. 

“Thank you daddy!” he smiled.

“It wasn’t me!” Cas insisted. “It was the bunny. But I guess you’re welcome anyway. Will you be okay here if daddy goes to make your breakfast?” Nodding, Dean took another nibble of his bunny. Cas figured that Dean didn’t need any more sugar than was already in his basket, so he made his breakfast more hearty, with bacon, eggs, and toast; Cas knew his boy would be excited about the bacon, at least.

Cas walked back to the playpen and found Dean— no bunny in his hand and chocolate all over his face and shirt. Cas chuckled and snapped a picture, unable to bare the cuteness. “Come here little one, let’s eat some breakfast.” Dean out his arms up, waiting to be lifted and put on his daddy’s hip like always.

“Dada?” he asked shyly once seated in his chair.   
“Yes, Dean?” asked Cas, forkful of eggs stopping halfway to Dean’s mouth. Dean avoided his gaze, peeking up at him for just a moment.

“Did… did the bunny go see Sammy?” he asked. It was painfully obvious to Cas that both Dean’s big and little sides were trying to ask this question, and that the little side was winning. And the answer was no, Cas hadn’t sent Sam a basket. He hadn’t thought to. But hearing that would upset Dean. If Cas were to lie, any big left in Dean would notice immediately. He sighed heavily.

“I don’t know, Deanie.” tried Cas, hoping Dean would drop it. He put a bite of eggs into his boy’s mouth. Dean tried to say something through the bite, but Castiel shook his head. “Dean, don’t talk with your mouth full.” he reminded. Dean swallowed his eggs and repeated himself. 

“Can you call and ask?” A glimmer of hope in Dean’s eyes made Cas bite his lip. If he were to call Sam and ask if he got a visit from the bunny, or even if he got an easter basket, it would be a very odd conversation. Plus, the inevitable no would hurt Dean’s heart. 

“I have a better idea.” Cas tried, taking a leap of faith. “Would you like to invite Sam over for Easter dinner?” he asked. Dean had seemed to slip further into his little headspace, but it would still be a stretch. Dean’s eyes widened. “We don’t have to, Dean—“ he started.

“Daddy, I’m scared.” he said. “I wanna see Sammy real bad, dada, but I don’t wan’ him to be mean or make fun of me. I don’t wanna be little daddy but I am. I gotta be.” Rambled Dean. 

“Honey, Sammy is your baby brother. He loves you.” Cas said. “He won’t be mean to you, silly.” He smiled. “How does this sound? I’ll finish giving you this yummy breakfast, and then you and I can make Sam a basket. Daddy can clean and hide Sammy’s basket while you take a nap, and then we’ll invite Sammy over. Okay?” Dean nodded.

“Can we invite unca Gabe for dinner too?” Cas couldn’t help but grin at this, nodding. 

“Here, Deanie. Have some bacon.”

After breakfast, Dean listed all of Sam’s favorite snacks— mostly healthy things, but a few things Dean remembered from their childhood that were not as healthy. Cas mojoed them up as Dean listed, filling the basket. When Dean couldn’t think of anything else, Cas nodded, satisfied with Sam’s basket. “Now it’s time for eardrops, and then nap time for my little one, hmm?” he said. The drops were not as traumatizing for Cas as the night before, but Dean still wasn’t thrilled. Afterwards, as Cas soothed Dean, he started to have second thoughts about Sam’s impending visit. “Dean, before we go to bed…” he said. “Are you sure this is what you want? Sam here?” Dean nodded.  
“Yeah…” Cas sighed. He wasn’t sure that Dean would be so okay with it when Sam walked in.  
“You’re gonna stay my boy, right? Not try to act big for Sam?” he tested.

“No daddy.” His hand never moved to cover his forehead, and though Cas was suspicious, he nearly accepted it.

“So you’re okay with Sam knowing about this?” A nod. “Do you want me to warn him before he meets little you?” Dean contemplated this for a moment.

“Yes pwease daddy. Can I nap now?” he asked eagerly. Cas nodded, scooping Dean up and whisking him off to the nursery for a change and his nap.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Said Cas with a kiss to his forehead. He turned the baby monitor on, followed by the sound machine, and flicked the lights off.   
“Daddy, wait!” he heard. Cas turned around. “Where da ‘pala?” he asked. Cas rummaged through the blankets in the crib, finally finding the toy between a crib bar and the wall. 

“Here baby.” smiled Cas as he gave it to him. “Goodnight, bub.” he said. He put the pacifier, still clipped to his little one’s shirt from the night before, into his mouth, walking out and shutting the door behind him.

Sam’s easter basket was hidden somewhere fairly easy to find— somewhere high up, at Dean’s earlier suggestion— and Cas set about making his house look spotless. The kitchen, bathroom, and living room were the only rooms they ever used. The nursery was almost always clean because all it was used for was sleeping and diaper changes. The same went for Cas’s room. The bathroom was fairly easy to clean, as a quick spray of the toilet to freshen it for Sam was all that was really necessary. The living room took some time, and Cas thought about putting all of Dean’s toys into his study, but hesitated, wondering if Dean and Sam would play together. On a hunch, he simply tidied them, vacuuming and making the space look more presentable. He even folded the numerous blankets that usually littered the couch.

The kitchen was the most daunting task. Cas tried his best to keep up with dishes, but he never realized how bottles piled up, and they were really a pain to clean. Still, it was for his baby, so after an excruciating forty five minutes of washing, all 48 of Dean’s bottles were clean. Cas also filled half with grace, draining a lot of his supply. He continued to clean the kitchen, wiping counters down and sweeping the floor. It amazed him how much food was under Dean’s high chair, and the color of the water when he was done mopping (all things he had to do manually sans grace) was fairly gross. But the house looked spotless. Cas lit a candle and went to rest and allow his grace to replenish. He’d start dinner when he was done resting, he figured, as long as it was before Dean awoke. He was still really worried that Dean would freak out when he saw Sam, but he’d said that was what he wanted, and Cas was going with it.

Under the warmth of a blanket and in the gentle tenderness of his bed, Cas could finally relax. His brain, however, could not. He ran over the dinner menu a few thousand times in his brain. Ham, gravy, mashed potatoes, rolls. green beans, bacon. Lots and lots of dessert.

He heard a rumble on the baby monitor but waited to see if Dean would calm himself, fall back asleep. Sure enough, he did, and Cas got up. Dinner. He needed to get dinner started. He was tired, but he’d be fine— he needed to start dinner.  
He mojoed up all the ingredients and started the ham, which he figured was the hardest part. Everything else would be simple. He planned out the desserts as well. Pie for Dean, of course. Brownies. Ice cream… Mmmm.

Ham in the oven, Castiel started peeling potatoes, and when those were finished, preparing the green beans. He didn’t boil the potatoes yet, figuring he’d wait till much closer to dinner for that. He still needed to decide on Dean’s outfit for Easter dinner. Easter outfits were usually at least a bit dressy, and Cas was dying to dress his boy up. But he had to be comfortable, and he didn’t want to make it too obvious that he was practically playing dress up with his son. He walked to Dean’s spare closet, the overflow closet— the biggest one in the entire house— and leafed through his dressier clothes. He found a navy blue polo onesie and white shorts, and the cutest loafers he’d ever seen in his life. Perfect, he thought. The polo was soft and the shorts had an elastic waist, so Dean would be comfortable, but he would still look adorable and sophisticated.

Dean stirred then, letting out a little cry. “Daddy’s coming, Dean,” said Castiel after Dean’s crying didn’t settle after a few moments. Cas lifted Dean. “Are you excited for Easter, bunny?” he teased, setting the boy down on his changing table. Dean giggled, nodding. “I can’t wait for you to see the outfit daddy picked for you” said Cas, unzipping his onesie. Gently, he undressed Dean and changed his diaper, putting an extra absorbent pad in the new one, as he figured he’d have a lot to drink today, being Easter and that they were having a family dinner. He’d recently acquired some adult sized diapers designed like the children’s ones he’d seen in the store, the disposable kind with characters on them, as an Easter gift for himself, and while neither he nor Dean cared for the Sesame Street characters, he had to admit that the Elmo diapers gave Dean a nudge in the direction of looking little, adorably so. He was precious, truthfully. “Here you go, baby!” smiled Castiel, pulling the polo over Dean’s head. Pulling it down and snapping the crotch buttons, he put the shorts on next, and with the addition of the loafers, Dean was dressed. And dressed he was, to the nines in fact. Cas produced the navy blue pacifier and an easter-egg printed clip, attaching it to Dean’s shirt. “Okay, honey. Let’s go out to the kitchen now.” Cas said.

Dean sat in his high chair comfortably, sippy cup full of chocolate milk on the tray with a handful of cheerios, just small snack for the tot, who was more interested in his toy impala. Dinner would be soon, after all. Cas had used his grace to increase the temperature their oven could cook at, so the ham would be done in just half an hour more. He stood at the counter, mashing the potatoes and humming absentmindedly. 

Sam had seemed surprised when Cas invited him, but said yes immediately. Cas had lowered his voice and explained that Dean was unlike himself in some ways, that he was acting younger than he was. He told Sam that dinner would be at 1:00, and to be ready, as Gabriel would be by to get him, and that the dress code was dressy casual. The table was set already for three, and there was a setting ready for Dean’s high chair too. As soon as the potatoes were done, Cas could finish his last minute preparations— drinks, a serving table… It had been somewhat stressful, but for his first Easter, Cas thought he’d done alright. 

And then, Dean dropped his cup in his lap, which wouldn’t have been so bad, except that the lid wasn’t on quite right, and it promptly spilled everywhere. Dean started to cry, and Cas went to him, taking the tray off of his chair and unstrapping him. The shorts were a lost cause, dark chocolate syrup covering the white, and Cas whisked him off to the nursery, facing a dilemma. He hadn’t thought about a Plan B Easter outfit. Dean laid on the changing table, naked but for a dirty diaper. Cas put a hand on his stomach, grabbing another diaper and some wipes. He changed his boy, then put him on his hip, walking to the closet. Another onesie wasn’t a big deal, this one a pale blue, and Cas dug through the drawers, finding tan cargo shorts for his boy. “Here you go, Deanie,” he said as he dressed him. When he walked back to the kitchen, the oven was smoking— of course. The ham had been supposed to come out nearly ten minutes ago, and at such a high temperature… Cas nearly put Dean in his seat before he realized that it was still covered in milk, then panicked, putting him into his playpen instead. Dean started to cry, Cas opened all the windows and took the ham out, letting the smoke waft out of the house. “Dean,” soothed Cas. “Daddy is right here, you’re okay. But I want to get this smoke out of the house.” he said. 

Dean cried out again, and Cas cursed under his breath. “Daaaaddyyy” whined Dean.

“Deanie, honey, can you please play with your toys until daddy has this under control?” he tried. He snuck a look at the clock and nearly fainted. Sam and Gabriel would be there in twenty minutes. Eyes filling with tears, he carried the ham outside and left the door open, going to his baby. “Hey, love,” he said, in an attempt to be bright.   
“Why ya cryin, Daddy?” Dean cocked his head, standing to meet Cas.

“Daddy is just a little stressed out baby boy. I’m okay. How about you honey? Hmm? Why was my little one crying?” Cas lifted Dean to his hip, and immediately, Dean laid his head on daddy’s shoulder. 

“Got an ouchie on my leg” Dean said. Cas could’ve smacked himself as he looked down. Blood dripped from a scratch on the boy’s leg, probably caused by the edge of his playpen when Cas put him down. 

“Oh, honey, daddy is sorry! Let’s go clean that up.” he soothed, walking to the kitchen. He sat Dean on the counter and wiped at the blood with a wet paper towel, pleased when it came right up and the bleeding had already stopped. “Let’s get a bandaid on you while we figure out what we’ll do about dinner” he thought aloud.


	10. Chapter 10

In the end, Cas decided to order chinese to go with their already made side dishes and dessert, so when Sam and Gabriel showed up ten minutes early, it was no big deal. Cas and Dean were in the kitchen, Dean in his newly cleaned seat, Cas at the island preparing the serving station. 

“Oh, hey,” greeted Cas. The house around him looked a little like a disaster, and smelled very strongly of smoke, but Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of Dean.

There was his big brother, sitting in a giant high chair. He looked fairly dressy, and nicer than he had in months. He had a little bit of stubble, but not an excessive amount. There was a smile on his face, and he was playing with a toy ‘67 Impala, running it back and forth on the tray of his chair, making a roundabout out of a sippy cup. There was a matching pacifier clipped to his shirt, but the clip was Easter themed, childish. And oddly enough, Sam didn’t care at all. He could feel Cas and Gabe’s eyes on him as he walked over to the boy, who avoided his eye contact. “Hey, Dean.” he greeted cooly. “How are you doing?”

Dean looked up at him, and both Cas and Sam recognized the look in his eyes as one of fear. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Dean. Just me, your baby bro.” chuckled Sam. Dean cracked a shy smile at this, and it seemed to Cas that he liked still being the big brother. 

“I’m good, Sammy.” he said. “Bunny came.”  
“Did he bring you that awesome Impala? I’m jealous, Dean. I want one.” he grinned. Dean’s eyes shot to Cas immediately, who nodded and mojoed one to Sam’s basket.

“No, Unca Gabe brought me that!” explained Dean. Sam nodded, understanding. 

“Well, he sure did a good job, huh?” Sam asked, mostly rhetorical. Dean nodded excitedly.

“Sammy, he brought me so many cars and a whole TOWN for them, Sammy!” rambled Dean. “Daddy, daddy, can I show him?” Cas nodded.

“Sam, can you get him out of there or do you need help?” asked Cas. To Sam, the contraption was practically in another language.

“Uh, a little help, please,” he said, trying to ignore his confusion and unease at Dean’s calling Cas daddy. Cas walked over and helped Sam info the tray first, grabbing the sides and pulling them out before pulling it forward. The straps were fairly easy, just like a seatbelt, but Cas explained to him that it was charmed so that the little troublemaker couldn’t get out, making Sam laugh. 

Soon, Dean was comfortably on Sam’s hip instead of his daddy’s, and the pair strolled to the living room. “Sammy, we can play until dinner is here and then we have to eat, ok?” asked Dean seriously. “Daddy was makin’ ham for us and he let it get burned so he called the chinese peoples and got food for us,” he explained.

“Sir yes sir. So, what are we playing with?” asked Sam.

“My car city, Sammy!” 

And so they did. For the whole twenty minutes it took for the chinese to get there, Dean cruised around in the impala, being “da monster catchin bruvers,” while Sam had to be the bad guys. First, he was a big, mean, scary monster truck. Just as he was about to switch cars, their dinner got there, and it was served. Dean sat in his high chair, which was pulled to the table, across from Sam. Daddy was on his right, feeding him, and Gabriel on his left. 

“So, Cas. I hear you burned our original dinner…” began Sam, taking a bite of mashed potatoes with a bite of general tso’s. “I gotta say, I think I prefer this chicken with mashed potatoes. Rice is overrated.” While Gabriel and Dean cracked up at this, Cas flashed him a grateful smile.

“Daddy, I wanna try!” said Dean, opening his mouth eagerly. Cas put a small bite in, and the whole table erupted into laughter as Dean’s face twisted and he grabbed his cup to wash it down.   
When dinner was over and the boys had all stretched their stomachs with dessert, they moved to the couch, watching some kid’s movie about Easter. Dean, of course, fell asleep on Sam not even ten minutes in. Cas was touched to see how relaxed his boy was, how comfortable he was with his big brother. Sam started to doze too, and Cas and Gabriel were the only ones left awake.

“So this has gone pretty well, huh?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to Dean and Sam. Cas nodded, snapping a picture.

“Honestly, I think it’s gone really, really well.” he smiled. “I mean, Sam took to it really well. And I think that his approach to Dean helped him a lot. Dean still wants to be the big brother, even though he’s little.” 

Gabriel nodded, agreeing. “And he still is, biologically speaking, even if he doesn’t act like it, which is why it makes it better for Dean. He’s still got one way to be big.” he thought aloud.  
Suddenly, Sam startled awake. “What, Sam?” asked Cas. 

“He’s… peeing on me.” he said, dead serious. The tension in the air was unbearable, just before Sam broke into laughter. “Is he wearing a diaper?” Cas nodded. 

“Here, bring him to the nursery, but try not to wake him up. I’ll teach you how to change him.” said Cas. Sam followed him to the nursery and ever so gently, with tips from Cas, put the still sleeping Dean down. When he moved his hand from behind his brother’s head and he stayed asleep, Sam felt prouder than he could remember in months. Cas laughed while he took Dean’s cargo shorts off, shaking his head at the wet patch on the front. “We had an incident with some white shorts and chocolate milk before you got here and I changed his diaper then, and I forgot to put another extra absorbent pad in it.” he laughed. Sam chuckled too. 

Cas showed Sam how to clean him thoroughly and slowly, as to not wake him, and how tight to make the tapes on his diaper. He let San redressed him, making slow and gentle movements so he wouldn’t wake up. Cas lifted Dean and gave Sam an extra shirt to change into. “Actually…” he thought. “Would you like to have a little skin-to-skin time with him?” 

“Sure!” Sam brightened. Cas took Dean’s onesie off and though he stirred, Dean settled, opening his eyes briefly to look up at Sam. Apparently, sleepy little Dean approved of Sam, as he went right back to sleep. Sam blinked back tears at this: Dean trusted him. Dean hadn’t trusted anyone just days ago. It felt so much longer, but they all knew it hadn’t been. 

“I’ll be right back. Call for me if you need anything” said Cas, walking out of the nursery. He went to speak to Gabriel briefly, giving Sam some time to spend alone with Dean. Dean had missed Sam, and it was obvious by the way Sam held Dean that the feeling was mutual. “They’re having skin to skin time. It’s so cute.” Cas mumbled. He himself was very fond of this sort of time, though most of it came in the bathtub for he and his boy. 

“That’s good,” Gabriel said, absentmindedly. His full attention was on the movie, though. Typical Gabriel. Cas couldn’t help but laugh as he returned to the nursery. He snapped a quick picture of the pair from just outside the door and smiled when Dean stirred at his footsteps. 

“Daddy?” he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes. 

“Daddy’s coming Dean. Sammy’s here right now.” soothed the younger, apparently not having heard Cas’s steps. “Hey, Cas?” he called out. Cas walked into the room, smiling at his baby.

“Hey lovebug!” greeted Cas.

“Dada, why I nakey?” asked Dean. It never ceased to make Cas laugh when Dean asked questions like that. 

“Just having a little bonding moment with Sam, honey. Did ya have a good nap?” Dean nodded.

“Daddy, I want clothes so Sammy can find his bunny basket and then we can go outside and play on my swing!” he said, rambling. 

“Okay love. How bout some clippies?” suggested Cas. Dean frowned at this suggestion.

“Why not my easter clothes?” he asked.

Before Cas could speak, Sam interrupted. “You had a little accident, Dean. It’s okay. Let’s put some other clothes on.” 

But it was not okay for Dean, and Cas knew it. A big-Dean meltdown of epic proportions was approaching, and rapidly. 

“No! No other clothes!” he yelled, struggling to squirm away from Sam. Sam let him go, so Cas went to the door, blocking it. He let Gabriel know that they were having a small issue and to please watch Dean’s nursery door in case he managed to get out. “I don’t want baby clothes! I hate them, Cas! I wanna go HOME and never be like this ever again!” he screamed.

“Dean, I understand that you’re upset and embarrassed,” Cas started, before Dean screamed something unintelligible. “No, Dean. Listen to me. You are upset and embarrassed to have had a leak but that does not mean that you get to scream like this.” Dean’s face turned red, and Cas was sure he’d done it then. Dean stood, legs shaking, and surprising all of them, ripped off his diaper and threw it at Cas.

“I hate these stupid diapers! I’m a grown fucking man!” Cas shook his head. 

“Dean, stop it.” tried Cas. 

“I hate them! And I don’t need them! I don’t want them, I’m fine without them!” his voice was starting to get raw from the way he screamed. “I hate them and I hate you and I hate everything!” he said, throwing himself on the floor. He screamed, tears and snot dripping down his face, and hit the floor as hard as he could.

“You’re going to break your hand, Dean.” Sam told him.

“Good!” he roared in response. 

“Dean, do you really hate this that much?” Cas asked, a lump forming in his throat. He blinked back tears. “Do you want to go home? If you need to leave, Dean, go.” his voice was scratchy and hoarse. “I’m not stopping you. I’m trying to help you, Dean, but I guess you don’t need it.” Castiel couldn’t help but cry now, silently, as he walked out of the room.

Gabriel stood there, waiting, and exhaled heavily. “Come here, Cas.” he said. He pulled Cas in tight and let him cry for a few minutes.

“Jus’ hurts so… bad…” he whined, breathing heavily. “I wanna make him feel.. h-happy… not like t-t-this” sobbed Cas.

“Shh, I know.” soothed Gabriel, rubbing his back, right between his wings. “Let’s calm you down, Cas. Come on. Sam's got Dean under control. I’ll help you calm down. Let’s go to your room.” he said. Cas was led to his bed and Gabriel forced him to lay down, grooming his wings as he had when they were young. He plucked old and weaker feathers, using some of his own grace to massage the wings and oil Cas’s feathers. 

Neither noticed when another set of brothers snuck into the room. Sam had a completely subdued Dean on his hip, dressed in a tee shirt and diaper, eyes focused intently on his daddy. He had a forlorn look in his eyes, and a sorry one, and when he looked at the gentleness Gabriel treated Cas with, he knew he must’ve really messed up.   
He’d just been so embarrassed. He really had thought that diapers weren’t all that necessary, that he’d be fine without them. His leak had proven to him otherwise, and he hated himself for it. But Sam had shown him.

Sam had shut the door to the nursery and screamed. When that didn’t work, he sat on the floor, and pulled his brother, completely naked, into his lap, despite all the trashing, kicking, and screaming. He pinned the boy down with his legs and spoke to him. “Dean, you need to calm down. You’re letting your embarrassment and anger get the best of you right now and we all know you’re better than this. Take some deep breaths please Dean.” After ten minutes of this talk, Dean was calmer, calm enough for Sam to get through to him.

It appeared as though Cas hadn’t been the only one snapping pictures- on his phone, Sam had pictures of little Dean. Dean in his high chair with the impala. Dean on Cas’s hip, giggling like a madman. Cas kissing a sleeping Dean on the forehead during his change. In every picture, Dean looked happy and content, more than he ever had before. “Do you see these, Dean?” asked Sam. “This makes you so happy. I know you’re embarrassed and mad at yourself, but Dean… you have no reason to be ashamed.” San cleared his throat. “I could never judge you for something that makes you this happy.” He paused. “And neither should anyone else.”

Dean nodded silently. “I’m sorry.” he said after a moment.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” was all Sam said. Dean nodded.

So there they were, standing in Cas’s room, and watching Gabriel soothe Cas. Sam cleared his throat, and Gabriel stopped his motions. “Hey, Cas?” he asked. Cas turned over, sitting up.  
“Hey, Sam.” he said. His voice was hoarse. The silence in the room was painful.

Suddenly, Dean rushed out. “Daddy, I’m sorry. Cas, I’m so sorry. I need you, Daddy, I need love from my daddy and I need love and kisses and hugs and cuddles,” he said. “I’m sorry I reacted like that, daddy, please don’t leave me alone, I need you.” Cas stood. “You make me so happy daddy, I’m just so stubborn sometimes and I know it’s not fair but you make me the best Dean there is,” he continued. “And I… I’m just, I’m sorry, Daddy.” he said, finally breaking. Tears streamed down his face, and he was snotty and his breathing soared and fell. 

Cas took him from Sam, gathering him in his arms. “Shh, baby. Shhhhhh.” he whispered over and over again. “Here we go, Dean. Shhh. It’s okay. Do you wanna help Sammy look for his basket?” asked Cas. Dean nodded tearfully. 

“But stay with daddy.” he said. 

“Okay, babe.” Cas agreed. “Sam, you have an Easter basket here, bud, if you wanna look for it.” he explained. Sam nodded and the group, all four of them, walked around the house and looked for the basket, finding it fairly easily. However, he pretended that he didn’t see it to make Dean laugh, which worked. Soon, he was giggling like a madman, all evidence of his tears gone.   
“Oh, I found it!” he said eventually after a few minutes. He lifted the basket off of the top of the fridge and set it down on the kitchen island, unpacking it. “This is so thoughtful. Thank you, Dean.” said Sam.

“No me. Bunny” he said with a wink to Cas. Cas nodded, an easy smile on his face. “Now… swing?” he asked, impatient.

“Hell yeah.” Smiled Sam. 

Easter turned out to be the turning point for Dean. In the day or two after, he was very little, very quiet. Sam stayed with Cas and Dean for those few days, insisting that he’d missed his brother. It turned out to be a good thing that he had.

“Cas, come here,” said Sam one day, watching Dean. “See how he’s only using his left hand?”   
“Oh...” Cas said, immediately recognizing what Sam was trying to say. “You don’t think…”  
“I think so.” confirmed Sam. Cas groaned. A broken bone would be a terrible thing for the boy.   
“Deanie, baby, come to daddy a minute,” Cas said. Dean walked over, diaper butt sagging. “Does this hand hurt?” asked Cas, touching his right hand. Dean jumped.

“No,” he said, covering his head with his left hand. Sam and Cas shared a tense look.  
“Could I see it?” asked Cas. Dean put it out tenderly, and Cas pulled the left one down to compare. It became startlingly obvious that something was very wrong with his right hand. Swollen, red, and obviously painful. “Oh, honey…” said Cas aloud. Sam inhaled heavily. “We need to call Gabriel.” he said.

“No, Cas, this… this is an ER situation.” Sam said. Dean’s eyes grew three sizes. 

“No doctor!!!! Just Gabriel!” he said. 

“Shh, honey. Let’s get uncle Gabe.” soothed Cas, placing Dean on his hip and asking Gabriel to please come as soon as he could. Cas got Dean a sippy cup of water, handing it over to him. “Uncle Gabe will be here soon.”

Sam took Dean, setting him on the counter of the island and kissing his forehead. Dean leaned into Sam, wanting to be held.

“What’s up, Cassie?” said a distant voice. Cas’s response was barely audible, but from the way Dean tensed, Sam gathered that he was getting nervous.

“It’s okay, Deanie.” he soothed. “Daddy and Uncle Gabe just want you to feel better. Does your hand hurt?” he asked again. Dean nodded.

“Real bad Sammy. Don’t want daddy to worry, though.” Mumbled the boy.

“That’s daddy’s job, you silly boy.” laughed Sam. Soon, they were joined by Cas and Gabriel.

“Lemme see that hand, baby boy,” Gabe smiles. Sam stepped aside, but Dean moved to be close to him.

“Let uncle Gabe look, Dean,” Sam said.

“Sit in your lap?” he asked. Sam looked to Gabriel, who nodded. 

“Sure babe.” said Sam, jumping up next to him on the island and pulling him into his lap. Dean still fit, even with Sam sitting indian style.

“Perfect.” Gabriel said. He examined Dean’s hand, touching it tenderly. Asking a few questions, he stepped back and nodded. “Okay. Let me talk to your daddy, boy. Then we’ll see what we can do about this.” 

Cas looked at Gabriel, fear obvious in his eyes. “What is it?”

“Cas, it's broken.” said Gabriel. “I’m  
being candid here. It needs to be casted. I can’t do that. He needs to see an orthopedic.” Cas exhaled shakily.

“Know anyone?” he asked. Gabriel shook his head.   
“But we can get through this together. You, me, and Sam. I’ll make a call today. The two of you get him ready to see a doctor tomorrow. Okay?” he soothed with a quick hug. He went to give the boys a hug, and left immediately afterwards.  
“Sam, could you put Dean down for his nap?” called Cas, his hands shaking.

“Sure!” Sam said in response. “Come on, bro. Nap time.” he said, quiet. Walking to the nursery, Sam sat in the rocking chair. Sam was so tall, and Dean being sleepy and scared, he curled up, so Sam dwarfed him easily, holding him on his lap. “Here we go, Deanie.” he said, settling, rocking slowly, just enough to draw the boy to near-sleep. When Dean fell asleep, Sam knew he should put him in the crib, but god, he’d been so worried about his hand, and Sam didn’t want you to go back home, or even to stanford eventually. He wanted to stay with Dean and Cas forever, but he knew he couldn’t. Eventually, something would happen. Something always happened.

He stood, setting Dean down in his crib and turning on his sound machine. Cas was teaching him well. “Goodnight.” whispered Sam.

When he walked back into the kitchen, Sam knew Gabriel’s news had to have been bad; Castiel was hunched over the counter, head in his hands. “Hey, Cas. What’s… what’s going on?” he asked.   
“Gabriel is confident it’s broken. When he wakes up, we have to get him mentally ready for a doctors appointment. We’re going tomorrow morning.” he said bluntly. 

“Oh.” was all Sam managed. “Well. That’s, um… What doctor is going to see him?” 

“Gabriel is going to find someone. I don’t know what he’s going to tell them.” Cas said. “I’ll ask.” Sam watched as his eyes glazed over a moment. “Okay, so…” began Cas. “Gabriel is going to try to find a doctor that specializes in adult babies. Sorta like Dean, I guess. But if he can’t, our next best choice is the ER.”

Sam nodded. “Okay, yeah. Okay. Let’s help him feel better.” he nodded. “I for one am going to get some lunch.” He dug through the cabinets and then the fridge, looking for something he’d eat. “Mm. Salad.” he said, seeing a bag of kale mix.   
Cas couldn’t think about eating. “Sam…” he said. “This may freak you out. But I need to drain some of my grace into Dean’s bottles.” Sam looked up, a mouthful of salad, swallowing it before speaking.  
“Dean drinks your grace?” 

“Yeah. I started giving it to him when he was sick. Now he won’t drink without it.” laughed Cas. Sam cracked a smile. 

“So… how do you do it?” he asked. “I mean, I’ve read about it, but…”

“I have a little cut here in my palm” Cas explained, showing it to him. “And I hold the bottle just riiiight here…” he positioned it perfectly and the pair watched the grace drain into the bottle. “Beautiful.” he smiled, filling it about halfway and moving on to the next. By the time Dean had woken up, Cas was done, resting on the couch. 

“I’ll get him,” Sam said before Cas could move. 

“Thanks,” he smiled. Sam walked into the nursery.

“Shh, shh. Hush, Dean. I’m here, Sammy’s here.” he said, lifting the boy out of his crib. There was one pro to him being way taller than Cas: he could lift Dean straight up out of the crib. “Time for a change, little one,” he said absentmindedly. He finished the change quickly and efficiently, and held Dean up, away from him. “You’re so cute,” he smiled. And it was true; Dean looked precious, with a light blue onesie, a shark, open mouthed, on the front, and dark blue shorts. 

Dean rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. “Tired.” he mumbled.

“Sorry bub. How’s your hand?” he asked. Dean shrugged- not a good answer. The pair went back to the kitchen, where Cas stood, eyes closed tight. He brightened when he saw Dean, though. 

“Hey baby!” he grinned, taking Dean.

“Hi daddy,” said Dean. “Lunch?” Even little, Dean was himself. 

“Sure!” Cas set him in the high chair and gave him a cup of water, turning around to make him some soup. Dean had always been fond of chicken noodle soup, and Cas was excited to try chicken and rice with him. Dean ended up loving it, of course, and eating nearly the whole can. “So, Deanie,” said Cas when he was done, his face wiped. “We’re gonna go see a special hand doctor tomorrow, and he’s going to help us with   
your ouchy hand.” 

“It no ouchy, daddy.” he lied, the telltale hand on his head. 

“Dean, I know you’re lying to me, honey. Daddy doesn’t like it when you lie, especially about something important like this.” Warned Cas. “Uncle Gabriel is trying to find a doctor who is really good at helping little boys like you. If he can’t, we have to go to the hospital.” he said with finality. Dean swallowed hard.

“Okay, daddy.” he said, subdued. 

“Good boy, Dean. Would you like some pie?” Cas asked.

“No daddy, wanna cuddle with you and Sammy. In Daddy bed?” He was meek, but Cas could tell he was in pain. The act was up for sure. Cas looked at Sam, who nodded.

“Okay, let's go cuddle.” Cas said. 

They spent all afternoon in bed, Dean in the middle of Cas and Sam. They watched movies on Cas’s phone and listened to music. Dean moved to suck his thumb—the left one, of course— but Cas stuck the navy blue pacifier in his mouth instead.   
“Sammy, when you goin’ home?” asked Dean out of the blue. Sam sighed. He hadn’t wanted to answer this question, maybe not ever, but at least not yet. 

“Don’t be silly, Dean. Sam won’t leave until you’re better, at least. Sam doesn’t ever have to leave if he doesn’t want to.” Cas interrupted. “I know I like having him around.” he smiled. 

“Me too, dada.” said Dean, forlorn. “I don’t want him to leave either.”

“Guys,” Sam laughed. “I’m right here.” This was met with peels of laughter from little Dean, of course. “And if you’ll have me, I'll stay here indefinitely.” he said, avoiding eye contact.  
“Of course we’ll have you. In fact, we’d have it no other way.” smiled Cas. Dean nodded in response, and the all resumed as normal. The question Sam has been asking himself was finally answered, and for a while, the whole little family was happy as could be.

“Sam, you can have one of the spare bedrooms.” Cas told him. Just then, Gabriel let him know that he’d found a specialized little doctor who could see them tomorrow. Cas thanked him at least thirty times, prompting Gabriel to remind him that this was his nephew, after all. “Dean, baby. Uncle Gabriel found us a doctor who takes care of little boys” smiled Cas. Dean nodded, and briefly looked at his daddy before turning his attention back to the movie. 

Cas ordered pizza for dinner, and the trio devoured the whole box. Soon, Dean’s eyes were dropping. “Hey love, are you ready for your bath?” he asked. 

“Yeah daddy. Sammy, come play with me?” he asked. Cas nodded and scooped him up, walking to the bathroom. 

“Sam,” he said . “Would you go pick out some pajamas for Dean?”

“Of course,” Sam couldn’t help but grin. He walked into the nursery and straight to Dean’s changing table first. Cas had found some cute patterned diapers as an Easter gift for himself, but he tended to go for the ones printed with Elmo and Cookie Monster. As his baby brother, Sam happened to know that Dean related spiritually to one Oscar the Grouch, and found an oscar diaper. It didn’t make a big difference to Dean what he was wearing— truth be told, Sam didn’t know if he knew he’d been wearing patterned diapers at all, as to him, they were just a disposable toilet anymore, and he didn’t even pay attention during changes, just relaxing and waiting for it to be done so he could be picked back up. Satisfied with a diaper, he moved on to Dean’s huge PJ closet. It seemed that those were Cas’s favorite articles of clothing for Dean, as he had easily a hundred, probably more. Most of them were onesies, but Sam noticed a few top and bottom sets. He leafed through these, figuring that if Dean would need a cast he would have to get used to wearing short sleeves, or at the very least, not footed pajamas. There were a lot with cartoon characters— paw patrol, PJ Masks, disney… His favorite, though, and the ones he went with were a pair of light blue pants covered in bananas and a matching top; the trim on the shirt yellow. There was one banana on the shirt, and it said “I’m bananas about daddy.” It was perfect. Adorable, honestly.

He walked back into the bathroom to find Dean splashing water with his bath toys. “Sammy!” he said, overjoyed. “We’re playin bad guys again, Sam!” So Sam sat down and played bad guys with Dean for nearly twenty minutes. It was obvious that Cas hadn’t managed to get any actual bathing done, however, so Sam played with one hand, and started the bath with his other. He wet Dean’s hair and put a bit of shampoo in it, scrubbing his hair. Dean growled like a dog—ironic, because he hated dogs—but otherwise let Sam continue with the bath. Cas sat back and watched, and soon, the bath was almost done. Finishing it up and lifting Dean out, Sam set him down on his feet while he dried him off, something Cas had mentioned wanting to do. It worked well for him because he was taller than Cas, so even kneeling, Dean could reach out to touch Sam and steady himself. He hated to be so unsteady on his feet, and this allowed him to get better at standing. 

Sam let Cas dress the boy though, and put deodorant on him, and go through their bedtime routine. It was the easiest way to get him to sleep, to follow the bedtime routine to a T. Sam thought he’d gotten it down, but he always missed a step somewhere, and it usually threw Dean off. After his bath, Cas dried Dean off and paid special attention to his head, massaging his head gently with the towel. He shaved him if it was necessary, face and everywhere else, and if he shaved, he put a special lotion wherever he’d shaved. Then he put a different lotion, one he special-ordered online with “essential oils” or something in it; all Sam knew as that it smelled like sleep. When he was done lathering Dean with lotion, Cas cleaned his ears and made him blow his nose, then did his nighttime drops (he was almost done with those, though). Then Cas combed Dean’s hair and put on his baby deodorant. They brushed Dean’s teeth, meaning Cas sang a song (it was adorable, and hysterical) and brushed Dean’s teeth until he was done. Finally, after all of this, he started to dress the boy. His night time diapers always got an extra absorbent pad in them, and they got powder. Dean got kisses on his belly before Cas dressed him, and once his clothes were on he was presented with the matching pacifier and taken to the kitchen so Cas could prepare his bottle. Dean enjoyed this time, laying on daddy and watching him make the bottle. Then they hiked back to the nursery, settling in the chair where Cas fed Dean, who toyed with the impala in his hands. When the bottle was gone, Cas kissed his forehead and set him down in the crib. He pulled a blanket up for him, turned the baby monitor and sound machine on, and turned the light out. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas said, shutting the door behind he and Sam. It was an exhausting process for Sam to try to memorize, being that the list was long and specific, but Cas never forgot a step. “Do you think he’ll be okay tomorrow?” he asked, snapping Sam out of his thoughts. 

“Huh?” asked Sam. “Oh. Yeah. I think he’ll be okay.” he said. “I mean, as long as you’re there. Especially if we’re all there.” Cas nodded, agreeing. 

“We have to be there fairly early, though. Like ten or eleven. It’ll be the first time he’s had to wake up.” chuckled Cas. 

“Guess we best get to bed soon too then, hmm?” Sam laughed. “Night Cas,” he said, walking to the bathroom to shower. He went into the room he’d been sleeping in and tried to envision it as his, the closet full of his clothes instead of with the bag he’d brought on the floor. All of his trinkets on the desk and books on the bookshelf. Cas had decided that when Dean was settled after this injury, they’d go retrieve Sam’s things. Cas had said that he could change anything he wanted about the room too, paint it or change the flooring, but he was pretty happy with it. The cream walls were boring right now, sure, but he’d eventually cover them with drawings or pictures of he and Dean or, well, something. The floor was fine, hardwood as it was through the entire house. Reaching over to plug his phone in and switch the light off, Sam settled down into the bed, pulling the blanket to his chest. Cas had given him an extension of the baby monitor, so he could always hear Dean and make sure he was okay too. Now, the sound of Dean’s snoring lulled Sam to sleep, as it had for years. He’d never admitted it, but he couldn’t sleep when Dean was gone.


End file.
